


Nico di Angelo and the Curse of Orpheus

by redibis



Category: Percy Jackson and the Olympians - Rick Riordan, The Heroes of Olympus - Rick Riordan
Genre: Bisexual Character, Coming Out, F/M, Friendship, Gen, M/M, Male-Female Friendship, Quests, Romantic Friendship, Trust Issues, Unrequited Crush
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-03
Updated: 2014-07-08
Packaged: 2018-02-03 05:26:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 25
Words: 35,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1732760
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/redibis/pseuds/redibis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Nico teams up with Jason and Annabeth on a quest to rescue Percy Jackson-- friend, leader, and occasional love interest-- from the Underworld after his death in the Battle of Gaea. </p>
<p>This is a first-and-a-half draft, so a better version is in the works. Post-BoO and not even trying to be canon.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

Percy Jackson is dead. He's been dead for weeks. Percy is dead, and even I can't do anything about it. All I could do was fight to avenge him, even though I knew he was never mine to avenge. I should be sad, devastated, but all I am is angry. Angry and bitter, like always.

Hey, at least I'm consistent.

Everything went off without a hitch when we brought the fight to Gaia. Reyna kicked ass, I must say. She hated me at first, but now I think we have something like grudging respect for each other. The fact that we were both hiding certain things from people definitely helped. I won't say what kind of things they are, but you can probably guess.

Annabeth still hasn't spoken a complete sentence since then, and it's starting to worry me. When she does speak, it's one or two words of Greek or occasionally Latin. She barely eats. She either sleeps all day or not at all. I feel like I owe her something. An apology, maybe.

If I focus, really focus, I can almost feel Percy's ghost in the Underworld. It might work better if I were on the ground, but we're still playing it safe after, you know, Gaia. We're somewhere over the Pacific ocean right now, on the Argo II. I stare at the ocean hundreds of feet below, trying to ignore everything around me, but a voice jolts me back to reality.

"What are you thinking about?" It's Jason, leaning against the railing next to me.

As if he has to ask. "I just wish I could have done more to help."

Jason puts his arm around my shoulders. I should be pissed off, and I would be if it was anyone else. But somehow, maybe because it's _him_ , this gesture is oddly comforting. I know he doesn't expect anything from me in return. It's easy to like him, even despite my better judgment.

"You've done more than enough, Nico. No one else could have done what you did."

"If I had gotten there five minutes earlier..."

Jason puts his hands on my shoulders and physically turns me around. He looks me in the eye. "You are _not_ gonna hold a grudge against _yourself_ for this."

I laugh. "Why not? I've made worse decisions."

"Nico." Jason's voice is as hard as flint.

I sigh. "Fine." I can't help the bitter smile that rises to my lips. Call it a defense mechanism. "'Cause it's not what Percy would have wanted, right?"

All the steel goes out of Jason's expression. He drops his hands to his sides. "That's not what I said."

"No, but it's what I heard."

Jason leans against the railing again and stares at the ocean.

I don't care if I pissed him off. No one else on this ship is carrying the same burden as me right now. No one else can possibly know what it feels like. Even Annabeth's grief is different from mine. She's struggling with her memories of Percy: at least she _has_ them.

Miles of ocean fly by beneath us before I figure it out. I feel like the millionth-and-first customer, the second person to fly solo around the world, the Monday to a perfect weekend. If I had shadow traveled to the battlefield five minutes earlier, I could have saved Percy. The Athena Parthenos could have been _his weapon_. As it was, it was only his by proxy. And he didn't get to celebrate with the rest of us.

"What's stopping you?" Jason asks.

"What?" I turn to look at him.

"What's stopping you from bringing Percy back? You brought Hazel back."

It's a really good question to ask... if you don't know shit about the Underworld. But I can't even stay mad at him. It's like he's exempt from my fatal flaw. I'm just glad he didn't ask about Bianca. Maybe it's because he's only barely heard about her, but either way. Still glad.

"It's not that simple. My dad pretends not to know about Hazel."

"How do you do it, anyway?" he asks. "Bring someone back."

I laugh. "Ever heard of Orpheus?"

He looks at me and shakes his head. "I still don't know a lot about Greek stuff."

"Well, he was a poet. His wife Eurydice died of a snakebite. He was so grief-stricken that he fought his way through my father's kingdom and pleaded for the right to bring her back. He played the lyre for nine days, telling stories about Eurydice."

"So what did your dad do?"

"Well, at first he was a jerk, as usual." I laugh. "But Persephone begged him to reconsider, because the songs were so heartbreaking. So my dad gave him a chance."

"A chance? He didn't just let Orpehus take Eurydice back?"

"This _is_ Hades we're talking about."

Jason shrugs. "Good point. What next?"

"Well, my father agreed to let Orpheus lead Eurydice back to the world of the living, on one condition. Orpheus had to trust that my father would let Eurydice leave. He couldn't look back to check that she was still following him, he just had to listen to the sound of her voice. But my dad is notorious for tricking people, and... Y'know. Orpheus kinda didn't trust him."

Jason looks pained. I can tell he's trying to guess what happens before I say what it is, because it looks like he's pretty much got it. "Oh, no. No, no. Don't tell me."

"Orpheus looked back as soon as he set foot outside the cave that led to the world of the living. Eurydice was still inside. He was cursed to live the rest of his mortal life without her." I hold my hands out, palms up, and shrug. Dads, right?

I leave out the part where Orpheus decided to, uh, forsake the love of women after he lost Eurydice. Basically, he got around. Women threw sticks and stones at him because they were so jealous of his boyfriends. But we can have _that_ particular conversation at a later date. Preferably never.

Jason looks at me like I just told him his dog died. "That's sad as hell," he says, after a moment of quiet reflection.

"Ain't no tragedy like an ancient Greek tragedy, 'cause an ancient Greek tragedy is horribly depressing and ends with most of the participants dead or maimed."

He laughs, then goes back to staring at the ocean. "Y'know, I wonder..."

"Oh, gods. Woe betide anyone who's standing nearby when Jason Grace has an idea."

Jason punches my shoulder. I want to say the gesture is affectionate, but I also don't want to think _Jason_ and _affection_ at the same time. Let's call it friendly, bro affection and save the earth-shattering realization for later.

"But really, though. What if you go talk to Orpheus about Percy?" Jason says.

Jason is two for two with the good questions today. It's seriously feasible; not like the greatest poet in history makes a point of hiding out. He has a condo in Elysium. Smugglers have been bringing snippets of his work topside for centuries, probably longer. Ever heard of Beowulf?

But I couldn't just go _talk_ to him, could I? Not with the fact that _Orpheus had a ton of boyfriends_ hanging over my head. That would require forcing myself to deal with my personal issues about Percy, and I'm content to stay as far away from my personal issues as I possibly can. It's practically a life skill at this point. Nico di Angelo: Professional Avoider.

"It would have to be a quest," I say, because I'm not willing to even think about undertaking something like that without at least one half-blood enclave on my side.

"Frank can get New Rome to back you. They love Percy," Jason says. "SoCal is, like, right over there anyway, right?" I can practically see the plan falling together in his mind. "And no offense, but you're practically a celebrity at camp. Chiron would be thrilled to have Percy back. Especially if you brought him."

"Grace..."

My tone is a warning to back off, but he's right. He's totally right. Even Dionysus would be excited to see Percy's face again. The campers might finally get the stick out of their collective ass about children of Hades if I returned their prodigal hero. And Annabeth... I owe this to Annabeth, even if she hates me now. Especially if she hates me.

The only thing holding me back is myself. And my dad, but... y'know. Priorities.


	2. Chapter 2

Which is how we-- Jason, Frank, and I-- ended up in Chiron's office about a week later.

"Orpheus," Chiron says, turning a lyre over in his hands, "was not one of my students, although I did enjoy his work greatly." He puts the lyre on his desk and turns to me. He doesn't have to say anything for me to know that he wants more information about the quest.

Jason wouldn't stop pestering me about it until I told him I'd lead it. Then he literally flew down the stairs to the engine room and begged Leo and Calypso to land the ship. This resulted in an emergency meeting. (Annabeth didn't attend; neither did Piper, who had designated herself as Annabeth's official aide and best friend.)

But really, I don't know anything about the hypothetical quest. It was all Jason's idea. I look to him, hoping he'll take over, but he shakes his head so quickly that only I notice it. Damn you, Jason Grace.

"Jason and I were planning to persuade my father to let Percy rejoin the world of the living," I say, hoping I don't sound nearly as shaky as I feel. "Considering there are no other living children of Poseidon, holding him in death could be construed as an act of aggression against Poseidon and Zeus. This quest would restore the balance of power among the Big Three and reduce the threat of war."

Chiron nods. "You've put a lot of thought into this," he says. He never praises anyone outright, but this is unmistakably a verbal pat on the back. Forgive me for not smiling. "Although..."

Here it comes. Chiron is one of the few people who knows about... me. I worry that he might be thinking my judgment has been clouded by the arrow wound in my shoulder, and I'm prepared to remind him that certain _other_ demigods have been on quests before to rescue people they were involved with.

But I never have to defend myself, because all Chiron says is, "Nico, you are the leader. Jason is your second. Who is your third?"

Jason looks at Frank. Frank looks at me. I look at Frank.

"I think I'll sit this one out," Frank says. "No offense. I have political stuff to take care of in New Rome. I can't leave, even for this. Sorry, Nico," he adds.

"I'm afraid I cannot approve your quest until three members are present," Chiron says. He sounds genuinely regretful, but the rules are there for a reason. Two demigods alone are way too much of a monster hazard, especially if they haven't been training together practically from birth. But three demigods can cover each other's weaknesses even if they're total strangers. It's just a matter of practicality. "Your request is denied, Nico. I wish there were something I could d--"

"I'll go."

A voice, rough from disuse, behind us. Only my battle instincts keep me from gasping. I recognize the voice and turn around just as Annabeth steps in the door to Chiron's office. Her eyes are red from crying.

Jason reaches toward her. "Annabeth, you don't have t--"

"I'll go," Annabeth repeats. "Three members for the quest."

Chiron tries not to look shaken as he looks at Annabeth. This must be the first time he's seen her in almost a year. Maybe he even thought she was dead. He has to have a million questions for her.

"In that case, your request is approved. You may visit Miss Dare to receive your prophecy as soon as you're ready."

Frank leaves first, muttering something in Latin about leaving the Greeks to their business. I smile. Frank is a good guy. I didn't like him at first, but something about war and death go hand-in-hand. He's my closest friend, after Jason, and I don't have to mention how close he is to Hazel. Actually, I'd rather not think about how close he is to Hazel. Overprotective big brother senses tingling.

Annabeth looks at us, but doesn't say anything. She walks out the door without a backwards glance at Chiron. Jason and I don't even have to talk about following her. We know where she's going.

Part of me wants to grab her by the shoulders and scream _What the hell, Annabeth?_ Another part of me wants to hold her hand and cry with her.

Those of us who have seen Tartarus understand what it's like. She's consistently proven herself to be stronger than anyone could ever know, but she must be scarred beyond recognition on the inside. Maybe that's even proof of her strength: despite the pain, she keeps going.

Annabeth stops at the foot of the stairs. She turns around and looks at us. "I'll go see Rachel," she says, apparently still sticking with the no-more-than-five-words-at-a-time thing.

"You've heard enough prophecies in your life, Annabeth," Jason says. He sounds like he's talking down a wounded animal, and I wonder if that's what Annabeth needs right now. "I can do it."

I want her to get angry, to shriek and scream like she did when Percy died. But she only shakes her head and says, "Go get ready."

Maybe she's trying to protect me from whatever the Oracle knows about me and Percy. If that's why she wants to hear the prophecy, then I don't want to admit that I'm grateful. But... I kind of am. Professional avoider here. Neither snow nor rain nor heat nor gloom of night stays this son of Hades from the swift avoidance of his appointed devastating secrets.

"Alright, that's cool too," Jason says under his breath, as Annabeth goes up the stairs.

We look at each other when she closes the door. Rachel greets her with a delighted scream (and probably a hug), and then we can't hear anything else.

Jason opens his mouth to say something, but I'm quicker.

"Whatever you have to say, Grace, don't say it."

Jason nods. "Let's go," he says. "We have to pack, don't we?"


	3. Chapter 3

Aphrodite cabin is nearly empty when I open the door with a black backpack slung over my shoulder. It didn't take me long to pack, and there's someone I have to see before I go.

Piper is sitting cross-legged on her bed. She smiles at me. If I'm really going to confront my demons, she's the first person I need to talk to.

"Had a feeling you might drop by," she says.

I try not to smile. "Good thing I wasn't planning a surprise party."

"I have eyes and ears everywhere, di Angelo," she says, mock seriousness in her voice. She cracks herself up trying to be stony-faced, then pats a spot on the bed. "Wanna sit?"

"Wasn't planning on staying that long," I say. "Just wondering if you had any advice." My shoulder aches, but I ignore it. The more I think about it, the more distracting it is.

She pretends to think about it. We had an argument once. She kept offering me romantic advice without stopping to consider whether I wanted it. The next day, she promised she'd never offer unless I asked. It's worked out pretty well since then.

I'm worried about what she might say. What if the best course of action is to give up any hope of... fixing things with Percy? What if something goes wrong, and I have to pick someone to save? What if I can't trust my father? What if I can't help looking back when we get to the cave?

"He'll be happy to see you, you know," Piper says.

"I know," I say, and I do. Percy will be overjoyed to get to see _everyone_ again, and despite my best efforts, _everyone_ still includes me. "I'm just worried."

"That he won't be happy in the way you want him to? Or that you'll make a mistake and ruin the quest?"

"Yeah," I say. "Both."

"Don't beat yourself up over it," Piper says. "I mean it. You can't hold a grudge against _yourself_ , Nico."

I laugh. "Jason told me the same thing."

Piper smiles. She and Jason are no longer, you know, _together_ , but they're still best friends. They're almost telepathic. Otherwise, I would feel like a jerk for even thinking about him in her space. "Then we must be right," she says. "You are absolutely forbidden from talking yourself into failure on this one, di Angelo."

"Yes, ma'am," I say, trying not to smile. It's hard, nowadays, not smiling. Not with all these assholes doing their best to make me happy. At least my smile is vaguely intimidating to the younger campers.

"C'mere," she says. Oh, no. I know what's coming.

"Aw, no, No hugs."

"Hugs, Nico. I can't let you go on a quest with my ex and my bestie without hugging me first."

I hug Piper, and she isn't even Charmspeaking. What wonders will the universe come up with next?

"Come back safe," she says.

"Yeah," I say. "Thanks, Piper. For everything."

There's a knock on the door, which is already half-open. There are supposed to be three campers if the door is closed, and I didn't want to incur any wrath before leaving for the Underworld. Technically, these groups of three are also supposed to be same-gender. Piper once stormed into Chiron's office leading a band of Aphrodite kids who were yelling things like 'heteronormativity' and 'bisexual erasure'. The rule got changed.

Jason steps inside Aphrodite cabin. His expression is almost unreadable, but unmistakably distressed. Something has happened.

"Stay safe, Nico," Piper says. "I mean it."

I'm only halfway out the door when Jason starts talking.

"Annabeth wants to talk to you about what Rachel said," he says, going a mile a minute. I'm used to listening fast, but he's seriously pushing the limits here. It doesn't help that English isn't my first language and half of the sentence is in ancient Latin anyway.

"Why _me_?" I say. "This is basically your quest."

"It's about Percy," Jason says.

Duh. Doesn't take an Athena kid to figure that one out. I can see Annabeth sitting on the front steps of Hades cabin from here. She seems so out of place next to the unforgiving black marble.

"Can you..." I begin, but Jason stops me.

"Of course," he says. "I'm with you all the way, dude."

I nod, mostly to myself. I don't even know why I asked: of course Jason would help me talk to Annabeth. Of course the sun rises in the east every morning. Of course pegasi love carrots.

Annabeth stands up as I approach with Jason in tow.

"Rachel says you'll have to make a choice," Annabeth says.

"Hello to you too."

Annabeth doesn't even react to my sarcasm. Maybe she's decided there's no time for it, maybe she's still not speaking to me unless absolutely necessary, or maybe she's just so occupied with other thoughts that it didn't even register.

She recites the prophecy. I know it's not the same as hearing it straight from the Oracle, but it's always creepy to hear one. Annabeth even gets the rhyme to sound ominous rather than silly.

_When all is lost for Wisdom's daughter,_

_When frozen moon hides flowing water,_

_The son of Death a choice must make_

_To leave a friend, a friend forsake._

_And to return the four home whole,_

_The son of Lightning must speak his soul._

Annabeth was right: I would have to make a choice. And it was eerily similar to the fear I'd confided in Piper about: that I might have to leave someone behind. Just like Orpheus.

Jason frowns. "What is _if_ we all come back supposed to mean?"

"Don't think about it too hard," Annabeth says.

"She's right," I say. "I've seen people get seriously hurt trying to figure out what their prophecies are about. The best thing is just to let it happen."

Annabeth looks at me with something not unlike admiration, but not exactly _like_ it either. But the moment, if you can even call it that, is over as quickly as it started.

"Let's go," Annabeth says.

I wonder when she had time to pack for the quest, then realize she didn't have to. She's probably had a bag packed to rescue Percy since the day of the emergency meeting. Then I wonder who told her about said meeting. My bet is on Calypso.

Chiron doesn't want to make a big scene of the quest, so we report straight to the Big House. He doesn't want to get anyone's hopes up in case we fail. He doesn't say this, of course, but it's evident from the secrecy of the whole thing.

I can't help feeling a little jealous of all the quests that got fanfare and going-away parties. All we get is the requisite emergency drachmas, thermos of nectar, and baggie of ambrosia.

I'm a son of Hades, though. Destined to remain in shadow, even when I actually want to be in the light for once.


	4. Chapter 4

The nearest gate to the Underworld is in Central Park. The sun is directly overhead and there are only a few short shadows around the jagged, bare depression in the ground. We're relatively shielded from mortal eyes by a cluster of trees, and the Mist takes care of the rest.

I don't want to waste any more time. I split the dirt wide open with little more than a thought: there's now a small ravine in Central Park. It's about a twenty-foot drop onto a flat surface, and there's a narrow staircase that descends for a long, long way into darkness.

"This is it," I say.

Annabeth nods. "How far down?"

"Twenty feet."

"I meant the whole thing."

I laugh. "We'll keep going down until we think the stairs should stop," I say.

"And then we'll be there?" Jason says.

Poor Jason. He's never been to the Underworld before. He has no idea what he's dealing with. I start to regret making him my second, then regret my regret. He'll have to learn some time. Might as well be now.

"Then we'll do about double that, and _then_ we get to say hi to my dogs. And then we'll be there."

"Mrs. O'Leary," Annabeth says. "I miss her." She smiles but it doesn't reach her eyes. Her memories of Percy must be painful.

Okay, so maybe I'm still a little jealous.

I occupy myself with thinking how to get to the stairs without breaking my ankles. I could drop into a roll, but not with this backpack. I don't want to throw the pack in first: my thermos of ambrosia might burst when it hits the ground. If I carve out footholds into the wall with my dirt powers, I'll be too tired to close the ravine up after we get down there.

Then I remember that Jason can fly. Duh.

"Okay," I say. "Jason, I need you to fly us down there."

"I hope everything on this quest will be that easy," he says, joking while he still can. "Annabeth?"

Annabeth nods. She holds out her arms, and for a second I think she's asking for a hug, but she just wants him to lift her and fly her down.

He carefully lifts her like she might break if someone touches her. She doesn't. Jason grins up at me.

"Next," he says, already on his way up.

"I'm not gonna hug you," I say. I might as well joke about it, because it's going to be unbearably awkward otherwise.

He shoots out of the ravine and lands next to me. "Aww, don't be like that," he says. "Dude, if anybody needs a hug, it's you."

"Save it."

"Fine, fine." Jason extends a hand, palm up. He grins and opens his mouth to say something. Knowing him, it's going to be embarrassing and cheesy. I have to put a stop to this.

"If you say 'shall we dance', I am going to push you off the nearest cliff. Which happens to be right over there."

Jason's shoulders sag. "Got it," he says. "Let's just go, then."

I nod. Better. I take his hand and he puts an arm around my waist to make sure I don't fall. Possibly. I think. I hope. There _better_ not be any other reason for it.

But before I have time to actually protest, my sneakers meet the dirt at the bottom of the ravine. I can feel the change in the atmosphere: this is Underworld territory. My reputation and my sword are the only thing protecting me here.

I look at Annabeth and Jason. This will be Annabeth's second time in the Underworld with Percy, I realize. Hopefully she'll feel better this time, instead of worse.

And it's Jason's first time, as far as I know. He has no idea what to expect, so it's probably the least I can do to give some kind of inspiring speech. The only problem is that I've never been good at speeches, much less inspiring people.

"Right," I say. "The Underworld is dangerous, obviously. They don't like demigods down here. Assume everything wants to kill you. Don't accept food or drink from anyone. Don't go to sleep. Keep one hand on your sword at all times. And don't leave my sight. Any questions?" I wait a few seconds. "Then let's go."

Annabeth steps into the doorway and disappears down the stairs at a faster clip than I would have given her credit for. She won't be able to keep up that pace for long, but I can't blame her for wanting to get a move on already. Jason watches her as she vanishes into the gloom.

"Won't she need her flashlight?" he says.

"Doesn't matter," I say. "The stairs are pretty narrow, and they go straight down. Impossible to get lost."

If anyone wants to go into the Underworld on purpose, my father is certainly not going to discourage them. I look up at the clear blue sky I'm about to leave behind. Who knows how long this might take? It could be a while before I see the sky again.

It's the trip back up I'm really worried about. Especially with that line of the prophecy weighing on my mind like a twenty-ton boulder. _The son of Death a choice must make / To leave a friend, a friend forsake..._ That could mean any one of them might get left behind. And it'll be my fault.

Jason shrugs. The movement catches my eye and draws me away from the prophecy, but I'm still staring at the sky from the bottom of the ravine.

"Let's go, then," he says.

That's the spirit. Jason rests one hand on the hilt of his sword and touches the wall with the other. He takes a few steps down, then looks back. Bad habit. He'll want to stop doing that. "You coming?"

"Yeah," I say. I tear my eyes away from the sky and close up the ravine. I probably just caused a tiny earthquake in the middle of Manhattan, but I don't care. All I can think about is how wrong all of this could go.


	5. Chapter 5

We've been walking for just over an hour when Jason starts to complain. I can't really blame him. Annabeth and I are hardly talkative at the best of times when we're concentrating on something difficult, and this is definitely not the best of times.

The stairs are barely wide enough for two, so Annabeth is in the front. Jason is behind her, and I'm bringing up the rear in case anything nasty tries to ambush us by crawling on the ceiling above us. There are flat stretches every so often, then the stairs slope steeply downward again.

Annabeth is carrying our single flashlight. She must have gotten it out before we caught up with her.

"It's like being on a treadmill," Jason says. "Except it just keeps going down."

"This is nothing compared to the rest of it." Annabeth's voice surprises me. And if I'm not mistaken, that's the longest sentence she's said to anyone but Piper in a month.

The last time she was in the Underworld, she was in Tartarus. It's as far under the Underworld as the Earth is under the sky. The Underworld's underworld, full of the worst nasties history has ever cooked up. I can understand how she doesn't exactly have fond memories of the place.

But for me, descending into the depths of the earth feels more like coming home than anything ever has. I don't even feel this way when I go to Camp Half-Blood. I instinctively know the exact square mileage of the Fields of Asphodel, the property value in every neighborhood of Elysium, and the number of souls currently residing in the Isles of the Blest. The Underworld is familiar to me. I'm _supposed_ to be here.

"How much further do we have to go?"

"Another three hours, at least," I say. "Do you want to rest?"

Jason shrugs. "I was just wondering," he says, trying to make it sound casual. If I had to bet on it, I would say he has at least three blisters on his feet. And he's hungry. Probably also wishes he took a potty break before we left.

"You're a bad liar, Grace," Annabeth says. Is she actually joking? She's actually joking. Wonders never cease.

"Yeah, okay, I guess I could take a rest. If you guys want to." He leans against the wall. "I just want to know when I'll get to see something other than Chase's ponytail smacking me in the face."

Will she or won't she? Yes, Annabeth actually smiles. Alert the press. "Keep it up, Grace," she says. "I might have to smack you with my hands."

"Children, please," I say. "No fighting, or I will turn this quest around."

"Okay, _Mom_ ," Jason says, and I can tell Annabeth is having a hard time not laughing. I'm not going to kid myself be pretending all any of us needed to feel better was the Jason and Nico Comedy Hour. Annabeth is seriously struggling, even now. I just hope by the time this is all over, she can find it in herself to heal.

As much as I hate to admit it, Jason kind of took Percy's place after the war. They were both natural leaders and strong personalities, so the shift was almost imperceptible. But Jason doesn't have the head for improvisation the way Percy did. He actually gets a little upset when things don't go according to plan. He's a brilliant strategist, good at organizing his troops, but bad at handling things when half the troops decide to go off on their own.

Annabeth would make an excellent lieutenant for the Seven (Plus Three), except she hasn't spoken to anyone in a month. Maybe that will change after this. But then, will it need to? With any luck, we'll have Percy back, which means Jason can retire as our unofficial leader.

My brain hurts.

I can't help wondering what Annabeth thinks of all this: the war, the quest, everything. This is the first time she and Jason have really interacted. They seem to be getting along, which is good. I wonder if they'll ever be friends the way, say, Frank and I are. Guess I'll wait and see.

Annabeth sits on a stairstep and pulls a lunchbox out of her backpack. I don't think anything of it-- she and Jason had to pack food, for obvious reasons-- but when she opens the lunchbox, it's not lunch. It's an old (old, old) fashioned papyrus and reed writing set. She balances it on her legs and dips the pen into the ink. I look away as she presses it to the papyrus.

My eyes land on Jason, and he's asking what it is without actually asking what it is. It would be really rude to ask what she's writing. I figure if she wants us to know, she'll tell us. She didn't exactly invite us to read her diary.

I raise my eyebrows and tilt my head towards the landing a few steps down. I'm getting pretty good at this nonverbal communication thing. And anyway, giving Annabeth some privacy is probably a pretty good idea. I've heard horror stories about what happened to her younger half-siblings when they tried to snoop through her things.

We edge past Annabeth and sit cross-legged on the floor of the landing.

"So," Jason says. "I never know what to talk about on these kinds of things."

"Most people just focus on the quest," I say. Not like I've been on that many, but I _have_ done plenty of dangerous things. It's kind of the same concept. "It's not like this is supposed to be fun. It is a quest, I mean."

Jason shrugs. "You're probably right. It's just, this is the first chance we've have to hang out since the whole saving the world thing. Not like you're having sleepovers with Hermes cabin, right?"

Going on a quest to rescue our dead friend from the Underworld is "hanging out" now, apparently. Only Jason Grace would make that particular logical leap. But I can't really get angry at him for it. We don't hang out enough. Did I say "enough"? I meant "a lot". Ignore that.

Jason's right: I don't exactly make a habit of hanging around Camp Half-Blood. Sure, I helped save the world and all, but there's just something about 3,000 years of prejudice against children of Hades that a big statue can't undo overnight. Plus, y'know, there's the whole thing where I like boys. It's not that I'm not welcome, it's just... they're not making much of an effort to help me _feel_ welcome.

"Yeah," I say. "Yeah, you're right. When this is all over, we'll--"

But I never get to say what we'll do when this is all over, because there's a screeching noise from above. I'm vaguely aware of Annabeth's yellow hair bouncing wildly as she bolts down the stairs, yelling, "Run!" She doesn't have the flashlight on; that's not a good sign. The screeching noise gets louder, and there's a rustle of wings. Harpies? It can't be.

But I'm not going to wait around to find out. I scrabble to my feet and draw my sword. Let me make a note here that you should never run with a sword unless you've been specially trained to do so by professionals. In my case, people who died from running with their swords.

Jason doesn't need any persuading, either. We both take off at the same time, trying to outrun whatever it is that got Annabeth to make a break for it.

"Care to explain what's going on?" Jason yells.

"Mormo!" Annabeth shouts.

"I thought they lived in Utah!"

Oh, no. Jason may not know a lot about Greek monsters, but I do. Mormo: the ancient Greek bogeyman, said to come in the night to carry away misbehaving children. Currently residing in various disused subway tunnels across Manhattan. One of them must intersect with this staircase somewhere. Mormo should still be in hibernation at this time of year. We must have startled it with the flashlight.

"Not Mormons," I say. How could I have not realized it was here? "Mothman meets vampire bat. Not pretty. You don't wanna get close."

"I didn't intend to."

"Stop talking!" Annabeth says, somewhere in the darkness down the stairs, still running. "It'll follow your voices!"

Mormo is attracted to sound and light, like a little kid might make when sneaking around the house at night. If Annabeth doesn't think it's following us already, I don't know where else she expects it to go; the top of the tunnel is sealed off from the sun.

The closest light is actually coming from the Underworld, a dim bluish glow that I'm certain Jason and Annabeth can't yet see. Hey, at least we almost made it to the bottom before we got eaten by fuzzy Dracula.

But she does have a point. If we're quiet, Mormo might forget we're the ones who woke it up and just decide to follow the light instead of our voices. I don't know what we're supposed to do about our footfalls: just hope we can outrun it, I guess. When we get to the cave at the bottom of the stairs, it'll be less cramped. Then we can get rid of it.

But before that even happens, Jason stops. I crash into him, almost knocking him over.

"What?" I hiss. We don't have time to waste. This has better be _so incredibly important_.

"What are its weaknesses?"

" _What?_ " Of all the things to ask--

"You said not to get close, so how--"

"Arrows, Jason, I don't know! Something long-range."

It's dark, but I can see Jason's wicked grin perfectly. "Like lightning?"

I can't stop myself from smiling. Alright, maybe Jason is _slightly_ better at improvising than I previously gave him credit for. I feel the hair on my arms stand up as Jason prepares the world's biggest bug-zapping lightning bolt. The air crackles. I hear Annabeth's footsteps stop; she must have realized we're not following her anymore. I can barely see her face in the gloom. She's watching to see what Jason will do.

Then there's a noise like a cannon going off. The tunnel lights up with an eerie silver glow for half a millisecond, and it's too fast for me to throw my arm over my eyes. There goes my night vision for the next twenty minutes. I look up just in time to see Mormo catch on fire briefly, then disintegrate into a fine yellow powder.

Jason laughs. "That takes care of our bug problem," he says, dusting his hands off.

Annabeth is at his side. When did she--? Never mind. Her eyes are fixed on the ceiling, and she looks terrified. Something is wrong.

There's a horrific screeching noise from all sides. Oh, no. The ceiling seems to move-- no, it is moving. It's crawling with hundreds of tiny, fuzzy bats with too many legs.

"Babies," Annabeth says.

Jason's face falls.

"Run?" I suggest. It's not too far to the bottom. But we're not fast enough. Tiny Mormo clones are already dropping from the ceiling and landing on us. Gods, they're getting tangled in Annabeth's hair-- one just went down the back of my jacket. I fling it off and shake it, but it's no good. They're already swarming.

"No," Jason says. "I can fly you down--"

"You can't lift both of us," I say. "Take Annabeth."

Annabeth looks furious. "Nico--"

"I can shadow travel! I'll meet you there. Go!"

Jason practically has to pull Annabeth off me. I get the feeling she's not going to be too happy when I meet up with them. But I don't have time to worry about it.

Or time to pick my jacket up, for that matter. Piper got me that jacket, so it was probably dangerously stylish as well as fair-trade. But none of that matters now. If I don't get out of here, it's not just my jacket that will get eaten by vampire moths from Hell.

I feel a slight twinge of regret as I melt into the shadows. I liked that jacket.

 


	6. Chapter 6

We're still picking tiny bug parts out of our hair and clothes a half-hour after we land in a pile at the bottom of the steps. (It wasn't my fault they didn't know where I was going to pop out of thin air. Jason happened to pick that exact spot to fall on.)

Annabeth has several baby Mormos still caught in her tightly-curled hair. They flap around weakly. Jason tries to help disentangle them, but she keeps swatting his hands away. Still mad that I made him carry her, then.

"I _hate_ Mormlets," Jason says, spitting out a mothbat wing.

"Just be glad they weren't Stymphalian birds." The cutting look I get from Annabeth reminds me why I don't try to make jokes ever.

"So... let's never do _that_ again," Jason says.

I sigh. I wish I could promise him that much, but quests are dangerous for a reason. It's kind of in the job description. It's not like they're supposed to be a fun day at the beach.

The beach... Percy. I can feel his presence a lot closer now. He'll probably be in my father's palace, or in Elysium, but those are both still a long way from here. And it's not like I can just walk in the door and say, "Hey Dad, Olympus probably thinks it's a big no-no that you have Percy so we'd like you to let him come back to the world of the living, thanks a million!"

Gods. This was such a stupid idea. We didn't even consult with the Olympians. What if they _want_ Percy down here? He might be a son of Poseidon, but he can't cause any trouble if they know where he is. And there's no way my father is going to give up a bargaining chip like Percy if we tell him there could be another war.

I can't believe I didn't notice the Mormos, either. I should have felt their presence in the tunnel. But Jason distracted me so much that... No, it's not his fault. It's mine.

I must look pretty upset, because Jason has stopped trying to help Annabeth (she looks relieved) and decided to help me instead.

"Hey," he says, his voice soft. No, no, no. Stop that. It's just like in Croatia. The last thing I need is Jason Grace trying to protect my from myself. Gods save me from Jason Grace.

"Hey yourself," I say, and immediately regret it. Nice going, di Angelo. Respond with the cheesiest possible thing you can think of, why don't you? Wanna throw in some outdated slang from the '40s while you're at it? Forget how to speak English for a moment and confuse yourself in Italian too? No, seriously-- what else can you do to make yourself feel more like an outcast?

"That was quick thinking back there. The shadow travel thing. And then how you put up that wall and they all flew into it? And I zapped them? That was way cool."

"Grace." I sound a lot angrier than I am. I don't want to push him away. I really don't. But if I let him in, if I open up, if I let him see just for a second...

It's better for both of us if he doesn't know.

"You okay?" he asks.

Don't do this to me, Jason. Not here. Can't it wait until we're, I don't know, somewhere where Annabeth isn't? "Do I seem not okay?"

"You always seem kinda not okay," Jason says, shrugging. "Just thought I should probably check in once in a while."

I smile. No, no! Bad, di Angelo! That's the opposite of what we want to do here. I banish the smile to Tartarus and pray he didn't see it. "I managed just fine before I met you."

A strange look crosses Jason's face. I can't tell if I hurt his feelings or not. "Nico--"

I look over when Annabeth speaks up. "We're wasting time. Let's go." She the last Mormlet under her foot.

I look back at Jason. He gives me a look that says "this isn't over".

Of all the demigods on earth, _why_ did it have to be someone who actually cares about me in return? It's the one thing I haven't been able to bring up to Piper. Her mother can be... temperamental when someone criticizes her choices. I'd prefer to have my own say in the matter, but you know how Olympians can be.

And the last thing I want is to get Eros involved. He would enjoy killing me slowly, which is the kind of thing I generally try to avoid.

So I'm grateful for the frankly absurd walking pace Annabeth falls into. It gives me time to focus on keeping my head down and _not speaking to anyone_.

She's almost jogging, really, and her hand is on the hilt of her sword. I can't blame her; the Underworld is a big, dangerous place, and we have a lot of monster-infested ground to cover.

By myself, it wouldn't be a problem. By myself, I could have rescued Percy about ten times by now. I can't shadow travel with two other people hanging on to me. Not anymore, not since the war with Gaia. Something about teleporting a forty-foot-tall gilded statue across the Atlantic ocean makes it kind of hard to bounce back.

It's probably for the best, though. The last time I saw my father, he wasn't exactly pleased to have me around. So I don't mind having backup, especially if the backup actually tolerates me. Or at least doesn't actively want me dead. The only real problem right now is that Annabeth is outpacing me, which leaves me wide open to--

"Are you sure you're okay?"

 _Merda_. I knew he wouldn't let it go. "Never better."

"You look tired."

"I'm Italian. Eye bags are in my genes."

"Are you worried about the quest?"

I sigh and let my jog slow to a walk, then to a complete stop. If he insists on doing this here and now-- well, it's his decision. I just hope he knows what he's getting into.

Jason stops too. Maybe... he _does_ know.

"You want me to be honest?" I ask.

He nods. "Yeah."

I take a deep breath. To late to back out now. "Then yes, Jason, I am worried about the quest. I'm freaking out about the prophecy, I'm terrified of the possibility of failure, and extremely angry at my father. I'm scared of losing the few friends I have and I don't know how to apologize to Annabeth for-- well, everything." I'm breathing hard, and I'm much too close to him, in his face. As though any of this is his fault.

He puts his hand on my arm, probably trying to reassure me. "Is that it?" he asks. I should be angry. I should be pissed off that he has the nerve to say something like that. But the way he says it... Jason isn't trying to make me angry. He actually wants to know if there's anything else bothering me.

I could go on. I could dump all my insecurities on him, right here, right now, and the worst part is that I know he'd just... be _okay_ with that. He's incapable of thinking I'm a bad person, no matter what horrible things I've done in the past.

"You're unbelievable," I say. Am I angry, or am I relieved?

"Unbelievably handsome, sure," he says, trying not to smile.

My face feels warm almost instantly. I realize I'm still standing way too close to him. I remove his hand from my arm and make a tactical withdrawal from the situation. (Frank would be so proud.)

There's no way Jason doesn't realize what he's doing. No way he doesn't know about the arrow. No one could possibly be so oblivious.

But hasn't he always joked like this? With Percy and Frank and Leo? I try to rewind the past few months in my mind.

Jason has always been a physical person. He likes to touch things. Hazel once called him an extreme hugger. So I never thought it out of the ordinary when he put his arm around someone's shoulder or played with someone's hair. He tried those with me, once, and very nearly lost a few fingers in a rock climbing accident shortly afterwards. Which totally had nothing to do with me, by the way.

Before we started the quest, on the Argo II, his arm around my shoulders. His hand on my shoulder just now. The way he shrank back when I went to move it away.

What did it mean? Nothing, or everything?

"Let's go," I say, trying to pretend my voice isn't shaking. "We have to catch up with Annabeth."

"Yeah," Jason says. "Yeah, let's go."

I don't look back at him. I don't know if I could handle seeing his face.


	7. Chapter 7

Somehow Annabeth has made it all the way to the banks of the river Acheron. On foot. I almost want to ask if she has some winged sandals stashed away somewhere, but Hermes-related things are still kind of a sore spot for her. she hasn't been able to talk about it ever since the Battle of Manhattan when Luke Castellan, son of Hermes, died.

I also know what it's like to lose an idol. That's why i'm here, now, doing this. To bring him back.

"Jason will have to fly us across," I say. I still haven't looked at him. I've committed to avoiding speaking to him for as long as possible. Speaking at him is another matter.

"You're supposed to pay the ferryman," Annabeth says. "Otherwise we won't be welcome."

"Did you plan on being welcome in the first place?" I say. She's right, though: we _should_ pay Charon. He isn't supposed to let living souls cross under any circumstances, but he's done it before. And he does owe me one. When I find him, I'll tell him my father mentioned something about a pay raise.

Annabeth gives me her best pissed-off wolf stare. I stare right back, daring her to argue.

"I'm the Ghost King, Chase. I might know what I'm talking about."

"Fine," Annabeth finally says. "Fine. You go with Jason as an advance party. I'll call Mrs. O'Leary and find Charon. I'll meet up with you at the palace."

"And why, exactly, should I go first?"

"You see any other sons of Hades around here?"

I was expecting an earful of ancient Greek curses. What I got was a half-decent strategy. Annabeth Chase: full of surprises.

Annabeth might be in the worst kind of pain, but she still knows what's going on. I'm not on the best terms with my father, but he can't exactly turn me away. If Jason and I go into the palace first, we might be able to get my father's blessing to search for Percy. Which will make this whole quest a lot easier. And more monster-free.

When I finally-- _finally_ \-- bring myself to look at Jason, his face is blank. Unreadable. Soldierlike. Maybe he's finally decided to start treating this like a quest instead of a date. A friend date. For friends.

"Let's go," Jason says. He sweeps my legs out from under me and lifts me into the air with no warning. I almost lose my grip on him and have to scrabble to get my arms around his neck. I hope Annabeth doesn't decide to comment. But she's already taken off down the riverbank, in the vague direction of Charon's elevator. (It's technically in Los Angeles, but distance is different down here.)

The River Acheron, the river of pain, is wide and fast, full of all the painful memories of every soul for the past three millennia. It's a tributary of the river Cocytus, which flows into Tartarus parallel to the Phlegethon and the Styx. There's also Lethe, which I can see through the fog, far off in the distance. Don't ask how I know all this. I think it comes with the title of Ghost King.

We've just cleared the tops of the black trees that line the riverbank when Jason finally decides to start speaking to me again.

"You don't have to keep shutting people out, you know," he says.

"I'd argue, but I don't want you to drop me." This conversation would be a lot more comfortable if my feet were on solid ground, and a lot less awkward if he weren't carrying me princess-style.

"Nico, I'm serious."

"Yeah, so am I."

"Nico." Jason sounds exasperated. Did I upset him? Wouldn't be the first time I lashed out at someone. I look up at him and immediately wish I hadn't. They way he's looking back at me tells me way more than I ever wanted to know.

"Did I piss you off earlier?" I ask. He stops flying and hovers in mid-air, which means I must be right. "Did I?"

"I just don't understand why you won't let anyone get close."

I sigh. How to play this one? Sarcastic, or sincere? I can't get over the way he looked at me just now. Like maybe he's not sure how to handle what he's feeling. I just wish I knew what that was.

"You know why. You were there in Croatia." There's a twinge in my shoulder, where Cupid shot me. I can't ignore it any longer. Just like I can't ignore Jason.

"Is that what this is about?"

"Depends on what 'this' is," I say. Would it be weird to pray to Apollo for some help in choosing my words? Because I'm going to need all the help I can get if I want to come out of this with at least a little bit of self-respect.

Jason hesitates. We're almost across the river now. "Forget it," he says. "You obviously don't want to talk about it. I don't even know why I asked."

I blink in surprise. "What? Just like that?"

"I'm not going to force you to do anything you don't want to do." Jason's voice is soft, but I can feel it in his chest. It takes every ounce of self-control I have not to lean against him and rest my head on his shoulder.

Snap out of it, di Angelo.

Instead, I look up at him, but he looks away. He's studying the stalactites on the roof of the cavern, far above us. I watch the ground, where the spirits of the dead are gathering on the river bank. Wondering what this son of Jupiter is doing here-- alive.

I wonder what things would be like if we didn't have the standard demigod peril to think about. If we could just spend time together with no monsters or family fights to worry about. If the ghosts ten meters below us weren't going to swarm the minute we get within grabbing distance.

But things are never going to be like that. What-if scenarios are a waste of my time and resources.

The ghosts are milling about like a bunch of kids standing in line for an ice cream truck. They're not zombies or anything; they're just cranky and confused dead people. But they can get dangerous if we accidentally upset them.

"We've got company," I say. Jason looks down. It's too late now to change his trajectory; even I can tell that much. But he does his best to land in a ghost-free area. I guess he can't help that a few of him grab at his clothes and pull him down into a massive puddle. It's also probably not his fault that he drops me.

I land in an undignified heap and he lands on top of me, startled by the ghosts. Gods, he's heavy. Where does he hide all that weight? He doesn't _look_ that heavy. I shove him off me to the best of my ability (i.e., I crawl out from under him) and stand up. No bones broken, but I'm covered in river mud. So much for dignity and self-respect.

I wipe the mud off my face and I'm about to address one of the ghosts when Jason starts screaming. What--? Oh, the river. Acheron. Pain. It doesn't affect me beyond an unpleasant tingle, but to him, it must feel like bee stings or snake bites.

"Water!" I shout to the nearest ghost.

She gives me a vacant, wide-eyed look. She points beyond the trees on the bank. "My lord, there is the river."

" _Fresh_ water!" I have no patience for ghosts. Half the time, I swear they're being difficult on purpose. "He's a son of Zeus, he can't bear the river. Get me a healer!"

The ghosts talk among themselves. I drop to my knees in the mud and try to drag Jason out of the puddle. I only succeed about halfway. At least it's not directly touching him anymore, but it'll soak through his jeans soon. He's scraping at his skin, trying to get the mud off, but it's no use. He'll tear himself open before he can do anything about it.

There's a hand on my shoulder. I tear my eyes away from Jason and look up.

"I am a daughter of Apollo and a healer," the woman says. I know that voice. I've eaten her grape-leaf California rolls before, in fact.

"Eurydice."

Eurydice smiles. "Hello, Nico. Your friend seems to be in considerable pain."

"Uh, yeah. We had a bumpy landing." I feel my face get hot. The last time I spoke to Eurydice was long before I met Jason, so she can't know anything about us. Can she?

"Worry not." Eurydice waves a hand and Jason lifts off the ground. The mud slides off us both and lands with a splat. I'm going to have to burn an offering for Apollo as soon as I get back to camp.

Eurydice sets Jason on a tree stump a few feet away. (Seriously, why couldn't we have landed _there_?) He's shivering and breathing hard, and his skin is red and shiny where the water splashed on him, but he looks better already.

"Are you okay, son of Jupiter?" Eurydice asks, kneeling next to Jason.

"I've been better." Jason's voice is rough. I feel awful for what happened. I know the ghosts didn't mean to hurt him. It's hard to blame them for anything-- they were just feeling startled and maybe a little threatened.

Speaking of the ghosts, they're gathered around us. I give them a sharp look over my shoulder and they all remember they have things to do elsewhere. Far away. They might not have known what they did, but they still hurt Jason. They deserve every extra year they'll have to wander around these banks, unable to truly enter the afterlife.

"My name is Eurydice."

Jason looks up. He's still foggy from the pain of the river water. He's going to be out of it for a while.

Understanding finally dawns on him. "You're Orpheus' wife?"

Eurydice smiles. "I suppose his fame still far outshines my own. Yes, Orpheus is my husband."

"What were you doing all the way out here, anyway?" I ask. They were probably having a quote-unquote _moment_ , but I can't help it. This is nowhere near where Eurydice lives. She has no reason to be so far away from Elysium. Unless... "Did my father send you?"

Eurydice smiles at me, but doesn't answer my question. That might as well be a yes. She turns back to Jason. "Can you walk, son of Jupiter?"

I remember our backpacks. They must have fallen off in the puddle. Eurydice is handling Jason just fine-- she's been a healer for thousands of years, after all-- so I slip away to retrieve our things.

Ghosts have torn our packs open and scattered everything across the ground. They're fighting over and struggling to open the ZipLoc baggies of ambrosia and thermoses of nectar. I draw my sword to startle them and they scatter, shouting curses in several different languages. The bags and thermoses fall to the ground, unopened but dirty. When I get back from this quest, I'm going to have bottled water instated as a standard quest item. I really don't know why it isn't already.

I manage to save a few drachmas from the mud, but the backpacks themselves are a total loss. So much for changing clothes at any point during this quest.

When I return to the tree stump, Jason is standing, but leaning on Eurydice for support. Good, he's recovering quickly. If he had been in the mud for any longer, if Eurydice hadn't shown up...

Usually I'm just quiet because there's no point in talking. Now that I want to ask how he's doing, I have no idea what to say.

Better to just focus on the quest. I hold up the things I rescued. "Everything else was destroyed."

"Oh, dear. That's no good," Eurydice says. "You are certainly welcome in our home, Nico. I'm sure Orpheus would be quiet pleased to see you. He had a feeling you might, ah, drop in."

"We have to go to the palace," Jason says, gritting his teeth. His knees start to buckle, but Eurydice reaches out a hand to steady him. "Annabeth will be waiting."

"Annabeth Chase?" Eurydice asks. "The daughter of Athena?"

I frown. "Yes? Why?"

"I believe I understand why you're here. My husband was not forthcoming with details, but I understand... And I really must insist that you visit my home before you go to Hades."

Eurydice snaps her fingers. There's a low rumbling noise, and within seconds, a massive hellhound is standing at her side.

"Jason, you may ride Praxidike. She knows the way. As for you, Nico..."

That doesn't sound good.

"You must tell me _everything_ about this quest."

And that sounds even worse.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is kind of a long one. We finally hit 10k words. Please take your time reading it so I have time to catch up on writing it!
> 
> But really, thank you all so much for the support, comments, and kudos. I can't tell you how much it means to me when I check my email and I see AO3 notifications telling me to write more. :P
> 
> Thanks again. Tell your friends about this cool Nico fic you found. No, really. And feel free to rec it on tumblr~ (￣ω￣;)


	8. Chapter 8

Orpheus' living room is pretty tasteful, actually. They've redecorated since last time I was here, which tells me that they must have had a fight at some point. ****

Orpheus redecorates when he's angry. There are no animal skins or dolphin skulls or anything like that, though, so it can't have been too bad. It's a bit dark, but there's not a lot of natural light in the Underworld.

Orpheus is sitting on the couch, typing something on his laptop. Eurydice insisted that Jason sit in the recliner and take the weight off his legs. The Acheron mud did more damage than I realized. If Jason hadn't collapsed while getting down from Eurydice's hellhound, I wouldn't have known he was still in pain at all.

Orpheus closes his laptop.

"So," he says, finally addressing me. I hope no one notices the fact that I flinched at the sound of his voice. Sounds in the Underworld always seem too sudden. "You thought I could help you rescue Percy Jackson?"

I nod, unable to speak. As compelling as Piper's Charmspeak is, Orpheus might as well have _invented_ it. In life, his music caused prey animals to lie down and sleep next to their natural predators. I've heard stories that he made rocks cry. How, I don't know. But I'm inclined to believe it.

"Well, you were right."

I let out a breath I didn't realize I had been holding. This whole quest has been riding on the possibility of Orpheus helping us. I would he's lifted a weight off my shoulders, but the weight of the Underworld's atmosphere on them instead kind of balances it out.

"The kid won't leave me alone, actually. Keeps coming over asking for help with his petition. Says if anyone can help, it's me, and--"

"Wait, what?" Jason leans forward in the recliner, straining with the effort. Eurydice pushes him back, gently but firmly. "You mean Percy is allowed to go free?"

"Uh, _yeah_ ," Orpheus says. Then he laughs. "More like there's nowhere they could keep him that he couldn't break out of. No one knows where he's staying, but it's not Elysium."

I'm as surprised as Jason, but it makes sense. Percy would probably just annoy all the guards to death. Well... metaphorically speaking. "Is my father allowing Percy to petition for his freedom?"

Orpheus gives me a quizzical look. "I don't think Hades knows about it yet. But he can't just keep him down here forever, can he? Olympus isn't happy."

I can't help myself from breaking into a grin. Jason smiles, too. But I don't think they realize exactly what this news means.

Our quest has four members. Percy has been working on it for-- who knows how long. Maybe since the day he died. Now it won't be as hard to convince Hades to let him leave the Underworld. Percy has already done half the work.

But the Fates won't just let it stay at that. They have chosen this particular moment for me to remember that we have no idea where Percy is. It usually helps to know where someone is before you attempt to rescue them. According to camp legend, the satyr Grover Underwood once accidentally led a search party. He says he was just looking for some rusty scrap metal to snack on, but he found some lost campers in the deepest part of the woods.

I sigh. If we had Grover, we could find Percy in no time. They still share a mental link that allows them to communicate their emotions, even from the other side of the world.

Where could Percy be, I wonder? The prophecy is trying to tell us, I'm sure. _When frozen moon hides flowing water_. Flowing water-- Percy-- duh. But what is the frozen moon?

"Orpheus," Jason says. "Can you help us decipher our prophecy?"

For the record, I have no idea how he does that. The whole coming up with the same idea as me thing. Pretty sure sons of Jupiter don't have psychic powers. Or maybe he was thinking the same way I was. He spends so much time joking that I sometimes forget he's smart.

"I don't know if that's the best idea--" Eurydice begins, but Orpheus cuts her off.

"Of course," he says. "I myself was a prophet for a while, you know. But are you sure? You might not like what you hear."

"It'll help us get Percy out," Jason says.

"Then lay it on me."

Jason looks at me for a split second before turning his attention back to Orpheus. His eyes are searching-- for what, I don't know. Reassurance? I doubt anyone else even notices. But I saw it.

Do what you want to do, Jason. Maybe then you'll learn what quests are like.

Jason recites the prophecy. I'm proud of him: his voice doesn't even shake. Around the third line, Orpheus' expression goes dark. Eurydice even frowns. I don't know if she has the same gift as Orpheus, the ability to charm and prophesy. If she does, she received it after her death. Regardless, she seems worried.

She ducks into the kitchenette and takes out a stationery pad from a drawer. I can't make out what she's writing, but it seems important. She tears the sheet off the pad and goes to the window. There's an animal outside-- a monkey? The monkey takes the paper. Eurydice resumes her place behind Jason's chair like she never even left.

Okay, so that was weird.

Jason finishes. Eurydice lets out the breath she's been holding. Do prophecies make her nervous? Or maybe it was the content of this one. I wonder if her botched escape from the Underworld is still a sore subject.

Orpheus chews at his lower lip and frowns. "I don't like the part about you having to make a choice," he says.

"You think _you_ don't like it," I say. Sarcasm: the universally appropriate response to terror of the unknown. Don't just stare into the abyss: make faces at it, too.

"Just what is Percy to you, anyway?" Orpheus asks.

I wish that question didn't still make me blush. I look to Jason. He's been fielding questions about Percy for me ever since Croatia. (I didn't ask. He didn't offer. It just sort of... happened.) But this is _Orpheus_. If anyone will understand, it's him.

"Percy is..." I begin, but that's wrong. "I used to... Well, it all started when I found out that Hades was--- ugh. Let me start over."

Orpheus holds up a hand. "No need. I think I got it."

I must be as red as a tomato. (I shudder at the thought of being a plant for the third time in my life.) I bury my face in my hands. "That obvious, huh?"

Orpheus shrugs. "You know there's nothing wrong with what you feel about Percy, right?" He pauses. "I mean, you _do_ know there's--"

"I was born in 1932, Orpheus. I'm old, not senile."

That gets me a smile from Jason. I feel myself start to smile, too, but I can't let that happen. Not here. Not now.

"But I don't feel that way about Percy anymore," I say. "I'm over it."

Orpheus nods. "Sure, that's fine. So we're rescuing your friend from Hades. No big deal. Out of curiosity, does he actually _know_ about any of this, or--"

"No," I say, just as Eurydice says, "Orpheus, that is none of your b--"

But Orpheus nods. "Alright, alright. I understand everything." He looks at Jason. "And what do you think of all this?"

"Wh-- me?" Jason looks stunned that he's now part of the conversation.

Please, gods, do not let Orpheus say anything stupid. Or me, for that matter. I'd like to _not_ embarrass myself yet again today, if at all possible.

"Yep."

Eurydice rests her hand on the back of Jason's recliner and rolls her eyes. "Don't let him intimidate you, dear. He can get a bit pushy. You don't have to answer him."

Orpheus, intimidate Jason? Jason once defeated a small horde of venti with nothing but a down comforter, if I recall that particular story correctly. I don't think he understands the meaning of the word 'intimidate', unless he's the one doing it. You don't know terror until you've seen him wolf stare at a couple of first-year campers trying to steal snacks from the kitchen.

Jason shakes his head. "Nico will make the right choices. I wouldn't have come on this quest if I didn't trust him."

My stomach does a backflip for all the wrong reasons. What in Hades happened to being angry with me for not opening up? Where did this supportive Jason come from? We need to have a talk.

"Well, this is what I think about your prophecy," Orpheus says. "Frozen moon and flowing water both refer to people."

"I knew that much," I say. What I want to know is who the frozen moon is. But it's not like I can just ask him. Poets tend to get upset when you throw off their creative process. Just ask Apollo cabin about the pigeon incident.

"The sons and daughter bit is pretty obvious, I think. So you've got that. I think Jason here can tell you about the part that refers to the son of Lightning speaking his soul to get everyone home." Orpheus glances at Jason and there's a moment of understanding between them.

What? Did I miss something here? It's like they're having a psychic conversation. I get the feeling it's about me, or Percy, or both.

"What about me? It says I'll have to make a choice."

"Yes, to leave a friend behind. But it's not what you think. I would pay special attention to water, if I were you."

Well, that's reassuring. Don't worry about leaving Percy behind, but pay attention to water.

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. Orpheus may be a pain in the ass, but he's also 3,000 years old. You kind of have to respect him whether you want to or not.

But at least this means I might not have any reason to worry about Percy. My father might not even reuse the whole no-looking-back trick. Knowing him, it's more likely that he'll come up with something worse-- if he lets us take Percy at all.

I just nod. Prophets have a weird way of making you feel better about feeling terrible.

"Um, thanks," I say. "That actually helps a lot."

Orpheus smiles. "No problem. Now, if there's nothing else you wanted to talk about...?" He glances at aJason, then back at me. His dark eyes sparkle with mischief, but there's no way in Hades I'm going to talk about this now.

"Nope. Nothing else. All done here. Totally finished."

Orpheus opens his mouth to speak-- probably to call bullshit-- but before he can say anything, there's a knock on the door. Eurydice goes to answer it. Orpheus holds up a hand.

"I think Nico had better answer it," he says. "Besides, I think Jason had something to ask me."

Eurydice smiles and lowers her head. As I open the door, I almost crash into Annabeth. Apparently she decided 'screw knocking' and started to open the door herself.

She takes one look at the situation inside and pulls me outside onto the small concrete patio, shutting the door behind me. I get the feeling this is not going to be a fun little chat.


	9. Chapter 9

"I didn't go to Charon," Annabeth says. "Or the palace."

Ah, that must be Athena-speak for 'hello'. Annabeth is an expert when it comes to getting straight to the point.

"Where did you go, then?" I cross my arms. It's a defense mechanism, even though I know I have nothing to fear from Annabeth. She just exudes this air of total intimidation. Not to mention her expression is almost always unreadable. Unless you're some kind of chess master, Annabeth is a wildcard. And I think she likes it that way.

She looks at the ground. "To see Bob."

I can't help smiling. Bob-- formerly the titan Iapetus. He and I have a lot in common. Family troubles, feeling like a reject, et cetera. I used to visit him all the time before the war. I would tell him stories about the sky and the sea. And Percy, but, y'know, embarrassing myself is something that can wait.

I'd like to see Bob during this quest, if there's time. And I'm sure there will be. The waiting list to see my father is huge, even for important business. We'd have to get a special summons to get in some time in the next week, let alone immediately.

Also, I thought he was dead. So, y'know, nice to know he survived the hellhole Percy and Annabeth created at the Doors of Death when the war began. It's the little things.

"How is he?"

"Better, but remembering. And it feels like he's keeping something from me."

I snort. "He's an ageless titan who took a dip in the River of Forgetfulness, Chase. Of _course_ it's going to seem like he's keeping something from you."

Annabeth's gaze snaps over to me. Her eyes are blazing, but not with anger. Indignation? The thrill of an oncoming battle, likely one where she judo flips me into the concrete? Maybe. I know nothing about children of Athena, and even less about girls.

But the fire goes out of her eyes almost immediately. "You're right," she says, almost as if she doesn't believe it. She's chasing a train of thought-- I can tell. Her voice is far away.

I try not to let my smug smile show. "Of course, the Lethe waters can wear off over time. Maybe he _is_ keeping secrets."

Maybe Bob just seems secretive because he wants to hide how much he doesn't know. (Trust me, it's embarrassing not to understand what others are talking about. Try spending seventy years in a time-sink hotel. I still don't know what in Hades an Instagram is.)

Or maybe he's trying to hide how much he _does_ know. Maybe Bob is more Iapetus than we realize, now. I don't know what this means for the quest, but it could be trouble.

"What do you think? What is he hiding?"

Hiding. That line of the prophecy slams into me-- _When frozen moon hides flowing water_.

What if the moon is Iapetus?

"I'm going to answer your question with a question. A weird one."

Annabeth raises an eyebrow.

"What are the three largest moons of the planet Saturn?"

"What?"

"Just answer it! Moons of Saturn."

She blinks in surprise. It's one of the few emotions I've seen her display since the war. "Titan, Rhea, and... oh, my gods."

"Iapetus. _Bob_ is hiding Percy." I can't keep the confidence out of my voice. "Gods! No wonder my father wasn't able to keep him in the palace. He was never there to begin with. Bob must have found him the minute he touched down in Erebus."

"The minute who was where?" Jason asks, poking his head out of the door. Whatever he was talking about Orpheus with, it seems like they're done now. And his injuries from the river seem to have healed completely, thank the gods.

If Eurydice and Orpheus want to say goodbye, they're not exactly making an effort. Eurydice is one of the kindest people I've ever met, but she has little patience for people who are only interested in her husband. Well, not _interested_. But-- you know what I mean. Whatever. It's obvious we didn't come to see Eurydice, so she's probably glad to be rid of us.

Jason looks confused as Annabeth explains what we just figured out about the prophecy. He has ADHD just like every other demigod. It's not easy to jump into such a fast-paced discussion. Sometimes the distractibility wins out over the hyperactivity.

"So let's go find Bob," Jason says.

"Not that simple," Annabeth says. "If I go to him a second time, Hades will definitely sense it."

"That's if he doesn't already know we're here," I say. "I kind of have a pretty strong presence in the Underworld. I don't know about you two, but the dead will have let him know _I'm_ here, at least."

"Well, that's a little creepy," Jason says.

I smile. "In case you haven't noticed, Grace, creepy is kind of my thing."

He looks confused again, but-- no, wait. Is he _blushing_? Oh, my gods. I'm going to kill Eros. The one time I go for sincere, and it comes out suave instead. I consider drowning myself in the Styx our of pure embarrassment, but the quest is probably more important.

Jason clears his throat and looks anywhere but at me. "Okay, so, wait. Who is Bob again?"

Annabeth smiles. (Annabeth! Smiling! Maybe this quest is what she needed to get back on her feet.) "Our titan friend. The Romans call him Japetus."

"And he knows where Percy is."

"It's the first line of the prophecy," I say. "Iapetus is a moon of Saturn-- Bob is the frozen moon."

Jason looks awestruck. "Nico, you're a genius."

I look away to hide that I'm blushing. (Killing Eros. Top of my to-do list.)

Annabeth clears her throat and raises an expectant eyebrow at Jason.

"Uh, of course, you're a genius too. Super genius. Huge brain."

She smiles, satisfied. "Then let's go," she says. "We might as well let Hades know we're here."

It's not far to the palace. I take the lead so I don't have to look at Jason. What in Hades has gotten into him?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *Completely ignores a heartbreaking-yet-ambiguous side character death* No shame


	10. Chapter 10

**Chapter 10**

Elysium isn't far from my father's palace. He is the god of wealth, after all: the gorgeous condos and villas in Elysium can tell you that much. Annabeth must be having a private _omg, architecture!_ moment. I wonder if, when she dies, my father will bring her on as an official designer for the Underworld. She has some serious skills, so it's definitely possible. Then again, my father isn't exactly fond of her, so I don't know.

But I'd rather not think about more of my friends dying right now. I turn my thoughts back to the quest.

"Remember," I say, as we pause outside the gates to the Garden of Persephone, "don't eat or drink anything in the palace. Our nectar and ambrosia are safe, but don't overdo it."

"I brought snacks," Annabeth says. She doesn't mention the lunchbox with the papyrus set. I still wonder what she was writing.

"Then prepare to share with Jason."

I almost expect him to make a joke about how it must be nice to be a son of Hades and not have to worry about Underworld food. Then I realize that Jason would never say something like that. As much shit as he and Thalia get for being children of Jupiter (slash Zeus), he knows that Hazel and I have heard far worse because of our godly parent.

I forget, sometimes, that Jason has made the mistake of deciding to like me.

Annabeth says something in Greek to the effect of, 'I hope he doesn't eat like a Roman.'

"Hey, I understood that!" Jason says, half protesting and half impressed at his Greek skills.

I can't help laughing. Their humor is seamless, so natural and quick that I almost forget how dangerous the Garden can be. I sigh.

"Okay, so, now or never. Don't look at any of the servants because their eyes can paralyze you." I go to unlock the gate. Magical Stygian iron sword: the Ghost King's key to any gate in the Underworld.

"Anything else?" Annabeth asks, all strategy.

A giant Venus flytrap leers at us from behind the thick iron bars of the fence.

"Don't even think about touching any of the plants."

My step-mother's garden has been famous for millennia. In it, she grows the most beautiful and dangerous plants on Earth. (Well, under it.) Gray tendrils wrap around the bars of the gate and pull it open, inviting us in. It reminds me of Demeter cabin's chlorokinesis combined with a Tim Burton movie.

There are huge, skeletal trees right next to cheerful pink daisies. Poisonous vegetables grow in neat rows with skull markers to differentiate them. Massive carnivorous plants show off their wet leaves. I shudder. I've had some bad experiences with carnivorous plants.

Annabeth and Jason are staying close to me. I allow myself a private moment of pride: finally, my own quest. A chance to show that I'm capable of not screwing things up, for once. I can't believe Chiron left me in charge of this. Then again, if he'd tried to say no, he would have had half the Roman council snapping at his fetlocks.

Something rustles in one of the blueberry bushes ahead. I freeze, then draw my sword on instinct. Unfortunately, Jason's instincts are not as sharp. He keeps walking and crashes into me.

I immediately turn tomato-red. Annabeth manages to turn her laugh into a cough. (Gods bless her.) Whatever was in the bushes-- maybe a monkey, sacred to Persephone-- is long gone.

I take a deep breath and let it out through my nose. "Grace."

"Yeah?"

"Next time you'll walk into a rafflesia, and it is _not_ going to be my fault when you have to take a bath in the Cocytus to get the smell off."

Annabeth does laugh at that. "We could get Mrs. O'Leary to give you a bath instead," she says.

"Welcome to dog spit hell, Grace. You have only yourself to blame."

"Welcome to where, Nico?"

I freeze. That voice. I squeeze my eyes shut. Maybe if I turn around slow enough, she'll disappear and I won't spend the rest of my life as a blackberry bush. There aren't many worse punishments for roughhousing in the Garden.

No luck. She's still there when I open my eyes. I sheathe my sword. "Hello, Lady Persephone."

She tucks something into the pocket of her overalls and gives a convincing fake smile. "I hope you and your friends have been careful with my plants." To underscore exactly which plants she means, she kneels next to a hydrangea and caresses the nearest gray-blue ball of flowers. The petals brighten under her touch, and when she takes her hand away, the entire plant seems to sigh dreamily.

I fake smile right back. She's not the only Hadean who knows how to show off. "We were just comparing your beauty to that of the corpse flower, my lady."

She looks impressed with that. I'm off the hook. There are only two way to avoid Persephone's anger. The first is flattering her until she forgets about it. The second is snappy comebacks.

She turns to Jason and Annabeth and I feel a tiny flare of panic. I know how to handle her. They don't.

"Annabeth Chase, my dear. You are always welcome to join my cult of the maiden dead, you know."

Annabeth is speechless. There's not a lot she doesn't know, but I'm willing to bet she has no idea about Persephone's patronage. A lot of people don't know Persephone is a goddess in her own right, not just by marriage. She's the goddess of roots and growth. Oh, and curses. And murdered women.

"Well, whenever you're ready, darling. There's no rush." Persephone turns to Jason. He shrinks back a little under her gaze. Please, gods, don't let him say anything stupid. I don't think I could handle Jason Grace as an oak tree.

"So, you are Jason Grace. We are half-siblings on the godly side, you know. Yes, Zeus is my father. Don't look so surprised, child."

'Surprised' is not how I would describe it. Jason is transfixed. Whether it's because of Persephone's beauty or her terror is another question. She has that effect on people.

Persephone just goes on, oblivious to Jason's silence. "I have heard a great deal about you, Jason Grace. It is because of this that I suggest you hold your tongue around my husband."

Jason blinks, wide-eyed. I can practically see the gears turning in his mind as he decides whether this includes speaking to her. Eventually, he just nods. What is it with immortals having psychic conversations with Jason lately?

Persephone turns her impassive gaze back to me. "I will take you to him," she says. "But I can make no guarantees that he will be pleased to see you."

"That's nothing new," I say. "I just hope he doesn't break anything this time."

"Do you mean the palace, or your bones?"

I shrug. "Either or."

Persephone smiles. Her teeth are small and sharp. "Come, child."

Annabeth snaps out of whatever trace Persephone had her in and follows her towards the palace.

I nudge Jason with my elbow. "Come on."

He stares into space for a moment, then grins as he figures out the whole walking thing. "If that's what Proserpina is like, I don't know if I want to meet Pluto," he says.

I don't bother to correct him on the names. Sometimes, especially under stress, he reverts to his Roman ways. I also force myself to ignore the fact that he's _meeting my father_. There are infinite things that could go wrong with this.

"Trust me," I say. "You don't."


	11. Chapter 11

**Chapter 11**

"Hail, giver of wealth, father of riches, the unseen, punisher of oathbreakers, receiver of many." I kneel, trying not to roll my eyes. Am I really saying all this? "May the gods reward your hospitality, Lord Hades."

Behind me, Jason and Annabeth kneel too. This is all just formality. All the epithets and stuff. Chthonian immortals are huge on ceremony-- and we want to make a good impression. If we don't get the introduction right, the whole quest might be doomed from the start.

We also owe Persephone a favor for getting us into the throne room. My father looked surprised, to say the least, when she brought us in. I can't tell how angry he is that I brought a son of Jupiter with me, but signs point to 'not happy'.

"You may approach," Hades says.

"Father," I say, standing up. Jason and Annabeth bow their heads and rise. We all take three steps forward. Three is a sacred number, especially in the Underworld.

"Why have you come here, Nico?"

I want to punch him right in his slimy face. He knows exactly why I'm here. He just wants me to say it.

"I ask that you allow Percy Jackson to rejoin the world of the living."

From halfway across the throne room, Hades raises a dark eyebrow. "Percy Jackson?" he asks, his voice practically made of silk.

"Yes, Father. Percy Jackson. Black hair, dark skin, about yea tall?"

Annabeth and Jason are standing close enough that they can probably feel me shaking. I can usually stand up to my father, but this particular subject can get... difficult.

"Percy Jackson," Hades repeats, ignoring my blatant sarcasm. He glances towards Persephone, seated at his left. "Darling, do we have a Percy Jackson anywhere?"

"He is here, my lord. Though his exact whereabouts are..." She purses her lips. "Unknown."

"Well." Hades claps his hands together. "There you have it. We can't give him to you if we don't know where he is, can we?"

My fingernails dig into my palms as I try to convince myself that punching the lord of the dead is a terrible idea. My hands are shaking. My everything is shaking. I hate how angry he makes me-- and how easy it is for him to make me that angry.

Hades is exactly the kind of ruler I don't like-- arrogant, too sure of his power. He's been on the throne since the Titan war, and he rules the Underworld like it's a plaything. He has no respect for his subjects, but demands respect in return. If I were king... No.

No, di Angelo. Now is _not_ the time to indulge your power fantasies.

Jason nudges my foot with the toe of his sneaker. It says: _I'm here_. It's the tiniest gesture, but it's enough.

"My lord, Father, _we_ can find him. On one condition."

Hades steeples his fingers. "What condition?"

"That you allow him to--"

"Uh, it's two conditions," Jason says. "Actually."

Both Hades and I look at him like he's just grown a snake out of his forehead.

"The prophecy," Jason says. " _And to return the four home whole, the son of Lightning must speak his soul._ I don't know what it means. But the four of us can't leave together unless I speak my soul." He seems to realize just whose conversation he's interrupted and adds a meek, "Sir."

Thank the gods that Persephone is here. She's the only person under Earth capable of handling my father's temper, which I _know_ Jason has just set off in the worst way.

"You are correct, son of my youngest brother." Hades looks at me. The raw power in his dark eyes is fathomless. His voice is calm, his words careful. In other words, he has transcended _pissed_ and is now discovering new levels of _bloody furious_. "Did you mean to tell me about this, Nico?"

Yeah, 'sorry' just isn't going to cut it.

"I thought it best to let Jason tell you, since it was about him," I say, through gritted teeth. I step on Jason's toes, hard. "Though our timing may have been _slightly_ off."

Hades leans back in his jet-black throne, satisfied. Or he may be contemplating tearing us into tiny little pieces and feeding us to hippalektryons. You can never tell, with him.

"And you, Annabeth? Do you have anything to add?"

Annabeth looks down. Respectful, but also wary of meeting his eyes. Unlike Jason, she actually knows what she's doing here. "No, sir. Nico has said everything."

Hades licks his lips. He does that when he's thinking, I've noticed. Not that I spend a lot of time with him. We have nothing in common, and we're not exactly on father-son bonding terms. Hey, dad, wanna go fishing this weekend? Sure, son, how about we drop a line in the flaming waters of the damned? I know a great little spot in the Phlegethon.

"No," he says, finally. "No, Percy Jackson must stay. None may escape death."

"Orpheus did," Jason says.

I close my eyes and brace for the oncoming storm. Jason. Poor Jason. His funeral pyre back at camp is going to be so bittersweet. If he even gets one. Hades might just decide to bury him in the compost heap behind the kitchens.

"What," Hades almost whispers, "did you say?"

I hear Jason swallow. I can feel him shaking. So at least he comprehends how badly he's fucked up. But gods bless him, he just doesn't know when to stop.

"You gave Orpheus the chance to rescue someone. And I mean, he failed-- but you have him a _chance_. Let us try to save Percy, sir. Just give us a chance."

Hades rises from his throne. Persephone tenses, ready to spring up in case he tries to strike one of us. Or all of us. I'm surprised we aren't dead already.

"You will not speak of Orpheus in my presence," Hades says, almost shouting. "I do not tolerate crafty sneak thieves like that-- _poet_."

"My lord, please reconsider." Persephone. Her voice is insistent. She places a gentle brown hand on his arm and her tone softens. "Percy is only a child, husband. He deserves to live. You know how I weep for all the children whose lives are cut short. Like so many spring flowers, my lord. Please reconsider." She guides him back to his throne and helps him settle into it.

I am going to owe Demeter so much farm work after this is all over.

Hades massages his forehead with his fingertips, muttering in Greek, and in another language _much_ older than Greek. It makes my blood run cold-- colder than it already feels in the Underworld. I'm glad Jason and Annabeth don't understand what he's saying. They wouldn't be able to handle it.

"Fine," Hades says, his voice like a whipcrack.

Jason, Annabeth, and I stand in stunned silence. Persephone mouths, 'You owe me' when Hades isn't looking. I don't know why she's decided to help us. Maybe she's serious about weeping for dead children. It would make sense. Part of her patronage is to the spring, and childhood is the springtime of life, or something cheesy like that.

"You may _attempt_ to locate Percy Jackson. If you succeed, on the condition that Jason Grace speaks his soul to me, the four of you may return to the world of the living. But I have a condition of my own."

Oh, gods. This is the part I've been dreading most. The air in the throne room seems heavy with the pervasive silence of the Underworld. The black stone walls seem to close in as Hades leans forward.

"Show me the speech you've been writing, girl."

Behind me, I feel Annabeth freeze up. Speech? What speech? Is that what she was writing on the papyrus?

"My lord-- it's not-- it was only to gather my thoughts, sir. If I had to speak to you about Percy. It was never meant to be read."

"Give it to me, or none of you may attempt your quest."

A servant approaches Annabeth, carrying her backpack. (We were all searched upon entry to the palace. They took the pack Eurydice gave Jason, too. They wanted to take our weapons, but I wouldn't let them. It's good to be king.)

She stares the ghoul down, but her hands shake as she unzips the pack and takes out the lunchbox. She unfolds the papyrus and looks it over. I avert my eyes when I notice the tears threatening to roll down her cheeks.

My father is _such_ a jackass.

He doesn't need that papyrus. He already knows what Annabeth feels for Percy. He just wants to show off and let her know she's under his power here. He's manipulative beyond belief, and the worst part is that he knows it and doesn't care. I don't know what Persephone sees in him.

Hades holds out his hand and gestures for Annabeth to approach. She scrubs at her eyes with one hand, takes a deep breath, and walks up to the throne.

She places the neatly folded papyrus in Hades' palm, where it disappears with a puff of black smoke. Not gone forever, but gone for now. I'm sure he'll read it later. Right now, all he needs is for Annabeth to know he has it. That way she can't do anything he doesn't want her to do.

Annabeth is the only one of us who knows where Bob is. If we can't find him, we can't find Percy. Annabeth can't cooperate if she doesn't know what Hades will do with her letter.

Hades has just doomed us to failure before we even started.

"You may begin your quest in the morning," Hades says. "You are dismissed."

Annabeth turns on her heel. She grabs her backpack from the ghoul as she marches out of the throne room, not acknowledging anyone. Her blonde hair bounces wildly. She doesn't even glare at me as she passes, just burns a hole in the floor with her gaze. (Metaphorically. At least I don't _think_ she has laser eyes.)

She nearly knocks a ghoul over as she pushes open the huge black door to the corridor. I see her turn to the left, towards the guest quarters, as the door swings shut.

Jason is too stunned to say anything.

"Dismissed," Hades repeats, waving a hand.

I tug on Jason's sleeve and turn towards the door. "C'mon."

"Yeah," he says. "Yeah, okay."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry updates have been so sporadic. I have a lot going on right now and I can't always find time to write every day. :P As always, thanks for all your comments and kudos!


	12. Chapter 12

A pair of servants collects us by the time we get halfway down the guest hall. I have no idea which rooms are occupied, or where Annabeth is, but the ghouls seem to know; they lead us to a room, then bow to me and wander off.

"Is this our room or Annabeth's?" Jason asks.

"It must be Annabeth's. Why would they only give us one room?"

"Oh," Jason says, pretending to be interested in one of the candle sconces on the wall. "Yeah."

Way to go, di Angelo. Let's push Jason away even more, why don't we?

I knock on the tall mahogany door. When there's no answer, I turn the knob and push it open. Slowly, because it's heavy. You have to appreciate a good, solid door.

The room is empty. Annabeth's backpack isn't here, so it's not Annabeth's. One bed (shit, _shit_ ) and no windows.

"Home sweet home," I say.

"The bloodstains on the walls are a nice touch. What happened to the interior decorator?"

"That _was_ the interior decorator."

Jason laughs and leaned against the door, which shuts with a heavy thud. He sighs.

"I hope Annabeth is okay," he says. "Wonder what was in that letter."

"It doesn't matter," I say. "Just knowing that my father has it is going to keep her mind off the quest. He's setting us up for failure."

Jason slides down the door and sits with his knees pulled up to his chest. "I hope she's okay," he repeats.

Oh, gods. Now is not the time for this. "Why don't you get some sleep," I say. Professional avoider, remember? Avoiding two birds-- the bed, and whatever feelings talk he wants to have-- with one stone.

"Nico, you don't need to keep _watch_. Gods, this place is like Fort Knox. No one can get in here."

There's probably a little too much contempt in my smile. "It's not people _getting in_ that I'm worried about."

"Ju-- Zeus would string Hades up if he had his guests killed. Violating hospitality is one of the worst possible crimes."

"What is Olympus going to do, send Hades to Tartaurs? Yeah, right."

"Your dad is not gonna kill us, Nico." Jason pats a spot on the floor. "C'mon. Sit. You're pacing."

I do _not_ want to have a feelings talk. Gods of Olympus, what have I done to deserve a Jason Grace feelings talk?

I sit. I pull my knees up to my chest and wrap my arms around them. I look away. Nothing else could send a bigger 'I don't want to talk about it' signal.

"Are you worried about the quest?"

"Gee, what gave you that idea?"

Jason sighs. "Nico, I just want to help."

"Alright. Fine. Yes, I am worried about the quest. Haven't we had this conversation already today?"

"I'm just checking up on you. It's what friends do. You can't just pretend everything is okay until your façade cracks. That gets people killed, Nico. You have to let me know what's going on so I can _help you_."

I stare at him. I can't decide whether to be pissed off or glad that he actually cares. Is Thalia this aggressively helpful, I wonder? Is it a family thing, or a Jason thing? Or a Jason-likes-me-and-not-in-a-friend-way thing?

What is it about him? How can he understand all my biggest insecurities without even having to ask? No one is that good. It's like he's just clicking around on Minesweeper-- and _winning_.

"I'm not a bomb, Jason. I'm not fragile or 'handle with care' or anything like that." I run my fingers through my hair. "Fuck, I'm not someone you have to take care of. I can take care of myself."

Jason is quiet for a long time, until my heart stops hammering in my chest and my breathing calms. He stares at the floor, and I know he's replaying what I said in his mind.

"Maybe I don't have to take care of you," he says, finally. "But I want to."

He stands up and puts his hand on the doorknob. I scoot away from the door, watching him, wide-eyed.

"Percy was my friend too, Nico. You don't have to do this alone. It's why Annabeth and I are here."

Jason leaves. I stare at the door.

\---

I wake up in the bed and immediately reach for my sword. It's not on my hip, so I sit up and look around for it. I didn't even know I had fallen asleep. I wasn't tired. Just angry, and confused.

"Easy," Jason says. He's leaning against the wall by the door. Annabeth is sitting on the floor, scribbling furiously on a sheet of papyrus. I glance at it; it seems to be an alphabet of her own design. That, or my dyslexia is worse than I thought.

"You were passed out on the floor when I came back. I put you in the bed. I hope that's okay," he adds, with a little venom. Is he... _mad_ at me? That would be something new.

"'S fine," I mumble. Wow, fear the mighty di Angelo. King of witty comebacks. History will remember me. "What's Annabeth doing?"

I know better than to interrupt her with direct questions. She looks up at the mention of her name, but doesn't stop writing. When she realizes we aren't talking directly to her, she goes back to the papyrus.

"Trying to rewrite whatever was in the first one," Jason says. "Still not sure what it was."

The implied question goes right over Annabeth's head. Her world only consists of that papyrus and her mind. Jason is just a particularly attractive piece of background noise at this point.

I stare at the floor. I can't look at him. "How long have I been asleep?"

It's useless to ask what time it is: the Underworld stops most clocks, and there's no such thing as night or day down here.

"An hour or two."

Where was he in the mean time? Wandering around my father's palace, trying to gather his thoughts about me? Yeah, right. If this were some kind of romantic comedy. That would solve a lot of my problems, to be honest. But real life is rarely romantic or comical.

There's a long moment where all I can hear is the scratch of Annabeth's pen on papyrus.

"Look," Jason says. "Nico... I want to apologize for earlier."

I can't help looking at him now. "What? No. I was the one being a total _cazzo_ , not you."

Jason laughs. "Well, yeah. But you were just reacting the only way you knew how. It's not your fault."

I was only being a jerk because I don't know how else to respond to kindness. Is that an insult or a compliment? I can't even tell if Jason is still angry, even though he's apologizing. It's not like him to just smooth things over for the sake of the mission, though. So he's probably sincere.

Probably.

I mean, a lot of what I thought I knew about Jason has turned out to be false lately. But there's no use overthinking it. I need to be thinking about the quest.

"Well, thanks, I guess."

There's a rustle of paper as Annabeth starts writing on a new sheet of papyrus. But otherwise, everything is quiet.

Look, nothing will ever be as awkward as the time I got put on laundry duty at camp and turned Ares cabin's underwear pink. (It was an accident. I swear.) But the way we're avoiding the real problem here by pretending nothing is wrong is a close second. The fault lies with both of us: Jason is treating me like I could break at any second, and I keep refusing to talk about what's wrong. But the thing is, I don't _want_ to talk about it. Not any more than Jason does. Probably _less_ than Jason does.

Am I willing to sacrifice finally figuring out how I feel for peace of mind right now, though?

Um, duh. Absolutely. Professional avoider, remember?

"I think I'm gonna go for a walk," I say.

Jason frowns. "Alone? Could be dangerous."

I give him a second to think about what he just said. When he doesn't seem to get it, I say, "Trust me, it'll be a lot _more_ dangerous if you send Annabeth with me and stay here by yourself." Take that, Grace. We're in my territory, here. I'm safer in the Underworld than anywhere else on Earth. (...Under Earth. Whatever.)

Jason steps away from the door. And so logic prevails. "Just don't be gone too long, okay?"

"Okay, _Mom_."

"Nico," Jason says, his voice so low that I almost don't hear it. He sounds concerned-- for whom? Me? Himself? Or even Annabeth?

I don't bother saying anything else, even though I want to. I just rest my hand on the hilt of my sword as I step into the corridor.


	13. Chapter 13

I don't know where I think I'm going. I guess I'm just planning on wandering around the palace like I live here-- which I do, sometimes. None of the servants bother me, at least. Most of them even bow when I walk by. ****

It's good to be king.

I wander past the kitchens. I think about getting something to eat, but decide not to. It wouldn't be fair. Jason and Annabeth are sharing a bag of trail mix, free range grass-fed beef jerky, and what's left of a single bottle of water. All that has to last until we leave the Underworld.

With any luck, our search for Percy won't last long. Annabeth knows where Bob is-- or at least she knows where he was as of a few hours ago. She and Jason can ride on Mrs. O'Leary, and I can shadow travel...

I mean, we might be able to rescue Percy by noon tomorrow. We might even set a record for shortest quest completion time.

Whatever the harpies are making in the kitchen, it smells good-- in an Underworld sort of way. I wish I could have some, but it just wouldn't feel right.

Instead, I go outside. Maybe spending some time in the stables will help me sort out my thoughts. Animals in the world of the living don't like me much, but Underworld animals are just fine. My father's horses aren't like mortal horses, anyway. They're taraxippoi, or horse-frighteners. They were a gift from Poseidon-- when he and my father could get along for more than three minutes at a time.

The taraxippoi are like huge, zombie draft horses. They would be right at home pulling carriages in Elysium's version of Central Park. Their eyes even glow in the gloom of the Underworld.

And they remind me of Percy. Yeah, okay, I said it. We're past denial, and we might be a little hung up on anger, but we're moving swiftly along into acceptance. Go me.

The taraxippoi watch me as I pace back and forth. They make zombie horse noises at each other, and I wonder what they're saying. Maybe I should bring Percy here-- or would that be too much like a date? Is it weird to show your crush your dad's skeleton horses?

One of the taraxippoi sticks her head out of her stall and snorts. Her eyes glow spectrally blue, and leave trails of smoke in the air when she tosses her head.

I smile and reach out my hand. She butts her nose into my palm. She can smell that I was near the kitchens.

"Sorry, girl. No food."

She gives me a haughty look.

"Well? I said sorry." I laugh. "You're Trómos, right?"

She whinnies. I'm guessing that means yes. I don't know. I don't speak horse. I only know a few of my father's horses, anyway. It's been a long time since I've seen them.

"Well, Trómos, have you seen a son of Poseidon around here anywhere?"

Trómos tosses her mane. Maybe she hasn't, but I'm sure she would like to. These ponies haven't seen anything like the ocean in a thousand years. Sure, they get the occasional earthquake, but it's just not the same.

"When we find him, I'll bring him here," I say. "Then you two can geek out about, I don't know, mane braiding, or something."

She neighs. I'm not sure, but I think I just got laughed at by a skeleton horse. I pat the side of her neck (a little hard to do, since she's lacking in the skin and muscle department) and say my goodbyes.

Maybe Percy and Hazel are on to something with the whole horse whisperer thing. The taraxippoi seem to understand me. Zombie horses don't judge you. They don't expect anything from you. They just listen.

Maybe I'll ask my dad for a pony for my 16th birthday. I wouldn't be able to keep it at camp, though. It would be a taraxippi.

I leave the stables, and I'm about to go back to the room and tell Annabeth and Jason about my plans for tomorrow. But the sound of voices coming from Persephone's garden stops me in my tracks.

I draw my sword halfway. How dead will I be if I eavesdrop on the wrong people? But I inch closer to the tall hedge anyway.

"-- the boy, my lady. For anyone's sake, let it be his." A woman, I think.

There's a long pause before the other voice speaks. "You are one of my most trusted advisors," another woman says, speaking with an air of authority. A goddess.

"I do not mislead you."

Another pause. A sigh. "Eurydice... I just don't know. It is much to ask."

Eurydice? She's here? And she called the other woman 'my lady', so that must be Persephone.

I am so dead.

"Please, my lady. Grand me this. As a boon. You have already given them safe passage today, for which I thank you. And I entreat you to see them through the completion of their endeavor."

Persephone has already helped us thanks to Eurydice? That must have been what she was writing about before. And the rustling in the bushes when we first got here-- that must have been the monkey Eurydice sent. The note Persephone was putting in her pocket. It all makes sense.

"I will do what I can," Persephone says. "My husband's tempers are strong."

"Do it for the boy, my lady," Eurydice says. "And for me."

"I will do it for you, and for the boy. I admit I have grown fond of him."

Who is this boy they're talking about? It must be Percy. But anyway, does this mean what I think it means? Persephone is going to help us. Maybe she'll even get Annabeth's letter back from Hades.

"Thank you, my lady. Your kindness is great. Truly, I thank you." Eurydice continues to praise Persephone, but her voices grows faint. She must be leaving.

Just like I should be doing. I turn to go. I _have_ to tell Annabeth and Jason about this. If I don't, I--

"Nico."

I freeze. The hedge in front of me parts to reveal Persephone's face. She doesn't seem angry, but then Persephone is rarely as she seems.

"Did you learn anything useful, Nico, from listening in on my conversation?"

I am _soooo_ screwed. But I can't let her know I'm afraid. She can smell fear.

"Yes, my lady. I learned not to eavesdrop."

Persephone's face is calm, but her green eyes are sparkling with immortal fury. I've seen that look before-- on the face of her father, Zeus. The family resemblance is striking. Too bad I won't be able to see it after she turns me into a sunflower.

But then she smiles.

"Good. As far as you're concerned, I wasn't speaking with anyone. In fact, I've been inside this whole time, weaving."

I nod, not quite getting it.

"Your father must not know about this. Do you understand? He _must not know_ that I am helping you."

"Understood, my lady." Since when does Persephone have secret meetings with her devotees? And since when has she grown fond of Percy? I get the feeling there are some things going on that have somehow escaped my notice.

"Return to your friends," Persephone says. "And remember--"

"Neither of us was ever here."

Persephone smiles. "Now go."


	14. Chapter 14

I hesitate before I knock on the door. I wish I could say I don't know why I keep pushing Jason away by being a total asshole, but I know exactly why. I'm not as over Percy as I thought, and I don't know how to deal with liking Jason at the same time. But this isn't the first time I've screwed myself over. It can't get any worse. ****

I knock on the door. I don't have to-- it's my room too. And it's not like I'm going to, y'know, walk in on anything. (Ew.) But it just seems courteous.

I guess I'm making an effort to fix things now. I'm the one who messed them up in the first place. Jason took my advice and started taking the quest seriously. I feel like I owe it to him to try and take his advice, too.

Jason pokes his head out of the door. "Annabeth is sleeping," he whispers.

I back up to give him room to come outside. The hallways is as good a place as any to talk, I guess. Jason takes care not to slam the door. I'm not surprised that Annabeth trusts him enough to fall asleep near him. He's just... trustworthy. And he takes care of his friends.

We stand there in silence for a minute or two. Just thinking. Quests can have that effect on you.

"So, I've been thinking," I say. I want to tell him everything. What I still feel about Percy, what I feel about him, what I feel about Persephone helping us on this quest. What I feel about getting a taraxippi pony next year.

But it would feel strange, to just let him in. To finally trust him. This is going to take time.

"Should I get a shield? Or a hazmat suit?"

I punch Jason in the arm. (I hurt my hand, but it's worth it.) He laughs.

"About the quest, jerk. And, uh, I haven't exactly been the best quest leader so far."

"Well," Jason says, "we haven't been poisoned, shot, electrocuted, set on fire, killed, or otherwise inconvenienced. So you must be doing _something_ right."

"Yet," I say. "We haven't done any of those things _yet_."

"And we're not going to," Jason says. He reaches out like he's going to put his hand on my shoulder, but stops before he does. "Um."

By the gods, Jason Grace has learned the concept of personal space. Someone get him a laurel wreath.

"You're good," I say.

He claps me on the arm, but it feels a little forced. Is he nervous? I wonder if he and Annabeth have been talking about me. Wouldn't that be weird? Her dead boyfriend's best friend talking to her about the dead boyfriend's friend who's had an unrequited crush on him for the past four years. My head hurts just thinking about it.

I cross my arms, but not out of anxiety. It's not a defensive gesture at all, this time. It's to make sure the fluttering in my stomach doesn't make me throw up.

"So, uh, did you see anything cool on your walk?"

I'm gonna tell him. I have to tell him everything.

"I made friends with a zombie horse," I say.

That is not what I wanted to tell him.

"Cool."

Remember the thing about Ares cabin's underwear? This is more awkward than that.

"And it's my turn to apologize," I say. "I haven't been taking you seriously."

Jason looks at me. "What?"

I take a deep breath and sigh. "I've been brushing you off. A lot. And it's not fair."

Jason raises a skeptical eyebrow. "Dude, are we having a feelings talk?"

I resist the urge to bang my head against the wall. "Yes, Jason, we are having a feelings talk."

Jason grins. "Finally."

"Watch it, Grace. I'm new to this whole feelings thing."

"Come on. What do you want to talk about? Is it about Percy? Or Annabeth? Or your zombie horse friend?"

"Yes," I say. "And Persephone."

"Persephone?"

I look both ways down the corridor to make sure no one is listening in. (We can have the discussion about how I'm a hypocrite later.) There's no one. Not even any servants.

"Eurydice and Persephone are going to help us rescue Percy. I think Persephone's going to get Annabeth's letter back."

Jason grins again. His smile could blind innocent bystanders, I swear. And that's another thing I wanted to talk about. Baby steps, right?

"We're actually gonna bring Percy back."

I shrug. "Yeah."

Jason frowns. "Aren't you excited to see him?"

I look at the floor. "Yeah."

"Nico, come on. Feelings talk."

I flop back against the wall. "I just don't know what to say to him. When we find him. What if he hates me?"

Percy knew how I felt about him, but I never got to tell him myself. (I think it was Leo who told him-- and it was an accident. Not even Leo is _that_ much of a jerk.)

I don't care that he _knows_. He was going to find out sooner or later. But I can't bring myself to face him. I don't handle awkward situations well.

"Nobody hates you, Nico. My dad doesn't even hate you."

I smile. "Nice try. But thanks."

Jason leans on the wall next to me. Proximity alert. Spidey senses tingling.

"If all you're worried about is Percy hating you, then you don't have anything to worry about."

"You know that's not all I'm worried about."

"Annabeth doesn't hate you either."

"I'm not w-- okay, I was slightly worried about that. Really?"

"She thinks you're a good leader. And she's happy that you're finally staying in the camps instead of just wandering around the United States stealing Big Macs."

I give Jason an incredulous look. (I'll ignore the Big Mac comment. For now. But for the record, I _do_ leave money on the counter.) "You had a feelings talk with _Annabeth_?"

He shrugs, nonchalant. "It's a gift."

"Oh my gods." I have to laugh. This entire situation is escalating into the hilarious. We're rescuing someone from the Underworld-- that just doesn't _happen_. I'm talking about my feelings with the most accepting guy on the planet. And I'm getting a pony for my birthday.

Jason laughs too. I'm still going to kill Eros, but, y'know, after I thank him.

I have to tell Jason how I feel about him. I'm going to explode if I don't. I don't know how to make the feelings turn into words. How do you express to someone that you just want to be near them without it sounding totally creepy? How do you tell them you love their smile, and their laugh, and the way their eyes sparkle when they're about to kick everyone's ass at Twister because they can _levitate_?

A cold wind blows down the corridor. Could be a draft, could be ghosts. But it brings me down from my Jason-induced high.

How do I tell Jason all that-- and explain that I still feel the same way about Percy?

"Uh. There was something else I wanted to talk about."

Jason forces himself to stop laughing. "Okay, serious time." He exhales and waves his hands in front of his face, turning his grin into a calm, neutral expression. "What is it?"

"Um, it's about you."

Jason goes still. All his little fidgets and toe-taps stop. He might as well be a human statue. He was just messing around with the 'serious time' thing. Now he actually _is_ serious. "Me?"

I take slow, deliberate breaths. If I don't, I'll start hyperventilating. It just seems like it would be uncool to have a panic attack in front of your crush.

"You know my whole thing with Percy?"

"Yeah?"

"There might also be a thing with you. Maybe. In addition to the Percy thing."

Jason takes it pretty gracefully, I must say. (Hey, stealth pun!) I don't know what I was expecting. He rarely overreacts, even to massive news. He was the force holding the Seven (plus or minus a few) together after Percy died. Jason's middle name is 'Composure'.

"Okay," he says. "Care to elaborate?"

I'm blushing. Please kill me as soon as possible. "Not really."

"Well--" Jason is trying not to smile. "I don't know, maybe some people have a Nico thing."

I open my mouth to ask what in Hades _that's_ supposed to mean, but Annabeth opens the door at the same time. She's bleary-eyed, but only because she just woke up. She's more alert than she looks.

"Did I interrupt something?" she says, looking back and forth between us.

"No, it's fine," I say. Gods bless poor Annabeth for having the world's worst timing.

"Then go get some sleep," she says. "I'll take the first watch for tonight."

Jason and I look at each other. He's blushing, I'm blushing, who in Hades knows _what's_ going on anymore.

"Dibs on the bed," I say, because I have to say _something_ or I'm probably going to die of embarrassment. "And wake me up for next watch."

I go into the room and Jason follows. I barely hear Annabeth laughing as she closes the door behind us.

"What do you mean, maybe some people have a Nico thing?" I hiss. My voice is so strained that it's squeaky, and it cracks on the question mark. (Why couldn't I have had a magic puberty, like Frank?)

Jason smiles impishly. "I meant exactly what I said."

I flop backwards onto the bed and sigh. The duvet smells like Annabeth's green tea shampoo. At least it doesn't smell like Jason. Then I would be well and truly unable to deal.

"Just promise me this isn't going to make things super awkward from now on." I stare at the ceiling. I would sure have a lot less to deal with if the castle collapsed in on itself right now.

"Things are going to be awkward forever," Jason says. "It's the nerd curse."

"Can we at least make a combined effort not to embarrass me forever? Just try?"

Jason leaved over me, grinning. His Roman buzz cut has grown longer and his bangs flop into his eyes.

"Do or do not," he says. "There is no try."

I hit him in the face with a pillow.


	15. Chapter 15

Hair in my mouth. I spit it out. What's this? Something warm next to me. Soft. Squishy. ****

Annabeth. I recoil so fast an image of myself hangs in the air. I jump out of the bed. What happened to Annabeth having her own room?

And what in Hades happened, anyway? I feel around the floor with my foot, looking for my sword. There it is. I fell asleep after my pillow fight with Jason (which I am _not_ going to think about right now).

Jason. Where _is_ Jason? He and Annabeth must have changed watches, which is why she's asleep now. I relax. Jason must be outside.

I put my sword back down, not out of reach but still out of the way. I might as well try to get some sleep before tomorrow. I'm almost asleep before I realize something's wrong.

I was supposed to take next watch, not Jason.

I grab my sword and practically fly out the door and down the hallway. If Jason was just trying to let Annabeth and I sleep, he would be nearby.

Okay, di Angelo. Don't panic. Fear is the mind-killer. Don't think about all the people that would cheerfully murder someone to have a son of Jupiter in their power. Don't think about all the monsters that could trick him into leaving the palace.

Let's just pretend he went for a walk. Where would he have gone? Not the kitchens; he knows better than to eat the food here. The garden? No, he was afraid of Persephone earlier and he wouldn't risk running into her alone.

Maybe he went to see my father? Yeah, right. His favorite uncle.

He can't have left the palace (under his own power. Wait, not thinking about that.) Hades forbade us from leaving until tomorrow morning.

I set a course for the throne room. My father will know where Jason is. Sure, he won't exactly be willing to help, but it's a start. And it's the only lead I have.

My footsteps sound like cannon fire. Even my breathing is echoing. When they say 'deadly quiet', this is the kind of silence they're talking about. If I stood still, I could hear my own blood in my veins.

This place always makes me feel small. Insignificant. My father's palace is like a giant M&M, the chocolatey center of power coated in a crunchy shell of imposing architecture. It's the same as Olympus, as far as I'm concerned. Maybe that's why I hate skyscrapers.

As I near the throne room, I hear a voice-- no, voices. And I recognize them.

"Remind me again why it was _absolutely_ necessary that you do this in the middle of the night?" Hades asks.

"I had a lot on my mind," Jason says. "And I wanted to make sure I did this right."

It says something about me that my mind immediately jumps to the memory of Luke Castellan. Demigods having secret meetings with immortals just hasn't been the same since Luke. Please, gods, don't let Jason turn out to be evil but secretly okay in the end. I don't know if I can handle a repeat of 'The hero's soul, cursed blade shall reap'.

"Well, go on, then. Speak your soul, or what have you. I haven't got all night."

So this is about our prophecy. At least Jason isn't making shady deals with the lord of the dead. He's just holding up his condition for the quest.

Jason takes a deep breath. I press closer to the huge door, which is open just enough to hear through. I will the shadows around me to hide me, and I can only hope it'll be enough to protect me. Persephone caught me eavesdropping, but she was on our side. I'll spend the rest of my life as an abstract metal sculpture if my father catches me.

"I'm worried about Nico," Jason says. No surprises there. His voice sounds far away, almost like he's in a trance. Maybe Orpheus taught him how to do this whole soul-speaking thing. I don't know if that's the technical term. Maybe Rachel knows.

I don't dare look to see if Jason is green or glowing or smoking. If I look, my father will sense it and he'll know I'm listening. (It's a Hadean thing. I can do it too. It's why I don't like people looking at me-- I'm _too_ aware of it.)

"Go on," Hades says. He sounds bored, like he'd rather be eaten by crocodiles than listen to Jason talk about me. He's a top contender for dad of the year.

"I mean, I used to worry about Leo. With the whole Calypso thing. And I worried about Piper. But they're both fine without me, I mean, comparatively speaking."

Hades pretends to sound interested. "Were you jealous of Calypso?" he asks. "And of the fact that this-- Piper, was it?-- needs no one at all?"

Jason hesitates. "I mean-- maybe a little?"

I can almost hear Hades' slimy smile. "And now Nico is the object of your... concern."

I let my head rest against the door. Definitely dad of the year. I resign myself to the fact that Hades is probably about to make Jason hate me forever with embarrassing dad-level death magic.

"Yeah. I mean, yes. And I just want to help him. Be there for him. But he's so-- _fixated_ on Percy. I-- gods, that sounds awful. That's not what I meant."

"But it is what you said," Hades says.

I can't believe it. The way Jason is talking, he's completely serious about having a Nico thing. And a Leo and Piper thing.

This feels like listening to someone planning a surprise party. I turn to go, but Hades picks this exact moment to turn towards the door.

 _Merda_ , shit, shit. I am so dead. What did I do? Did the shadows slip? Did I make a sound? Did--

No.

I looked at Jason.

Is it too late to will my Mythomagic stuff to Frank? I hope Hazel will make sure my burial shroud is a nice one. Oh, well. Goodbye, cruel world.

But... Nothing happens. Hades turns away. He knows I'm here. He can feel my presence-- I _know_ he can. Either he just doesn't care, or my reckoning is yet to come.

Hades makes no move to let Jason know I'm here. He just nods, trying to look interested. Maybe I'm supposed to be here. It's not the weirdest plot twist the Fates have pulled off.

"--and I'm also not sure if Annabeth is okay," Jason goes on. He has no idea anything is out of the ordinary. "It's like the quest is the only thing keeping her going. Like maybe she can be a real person again if she has Percy. Is that healthy? That can't be healthy. I don't think she even ate anything before we left."

Well, now I feel like the best quest leader ever. I should have double-checked that everyone was good to go before we jumped down a hole in Central Park. If not out of concern for my friend, then out of self-preservation. If Annabeth's battle reflexes are impaired, we could all die. The Underworld is not a forgiving place, and it's hard to swing a sword if all you've had to eat today is a grape and a piece of cheese. (Trust me-- I know from experience.)

"And is that all?" Hades' voice is strained with impatience. I can't thank Persephone enough for convincing him to go on this quest at all. Because there's no way he would have agreed if she hadn't asked him to.

Jason is quiet for a moment. "Yeah," he says. "I mean, yes, sir."

"Then go. And _don't_ bother me with any more of this Percy Jackson nonsense."

That's my cue to disappear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lots of updates today because I sat my butt down in a coffee shop and hand-wrote ten pages. Because I love you.
> 
> Poll: Longer chapters with fewer updates, Y/N?


	16. Chapter 16

I can't make it back to the room without running. If I run, I'll be out of breath when I get there. And if Jason comes back and finds me out of breath, he'll know I wasn't there the whole time. Bad idea.

I can't shadow travel, either. Not without scaring the daylights out of Annabeth, which is the last thing I need. Never piss off a girl with a sword.

I settle for the middle option and shadow travel about halfway down the hallway. I'm dizzy and I have to lean against the wall, but at least I can make it look casual. I can pretend I was just out for a walk. Jason might not buy it, but it's better than being obvious.

I keep my head down, thankful that only half the normal number of lamps are burning due to the late hour. It's dark for everyone who doesn't know this place, and it gives me somewhere to hide.

"Nico?" Jason's spotted me.

I look up and pretend to be surprised. "Jason? What are you doing up?"

"What are _you_ doing up?" he asks. He nudges my foot with his, probably making sure I'm real and not some kind of Underworld hallucination. (Sometimes I wonder about that myself.)

"You first."

Jason looks conflicted-- probably deciding whether he can tell the truth or not. To my surprise, he goes for not. "Just getting a feel for the place. Getting some interior design ideas. Did you know there's a statue of Achilles and Patroclus where they--"

"Seen it." I don't want to think about that statue, not with Jason right here. It's dark and I can feel the warmth radiating from him, even from here, and-- yeah, nope. But I have to say _something_. "They commissioned that, can you believe it?"

Jason laughs. "Yeah, I can believe that." He leans on the wall next to me. ADHD or not, there's _no_ way I can focus now. "So, what were you doing up?"

If he can lie about what he was doing, then so can I. "Couldn't sleep."

"You left Annabeth by herself?"

"She had her own room, last time I checked. She can take care of herself, Jason. She lived through Tartarus."

"I guess so," Jason says. "She was asleep, right?"

I feel my face get hot. "Uh, yeah. What was up with that, exactly?"

"We talked about it the first time you fell asleep. It's easier to defend one room than two. And she didn't think you would mind."

I frown. I mean, she was right, but still. "Is that why you didn't wake me for second watch?"

"Huh?"

"Because if you had to sleep next to her, you would have minded."

"Whoa, Annabeth is my friend. I'm not... It's not like that with her." Jason snorts. "What, like bisexuals just like everyone or something?"

I turn red so quickly that I must be glowing in the dark. I mean, Jason isn't gay-- he had a Piper thing for, like, ever. (And a Reyna thing, but I promised her I wouldn't bring that up ever again. I mean, after she kicked my ass over it.) But he isn't straight-- he had a Leo thing. And apparently _has_ a Nico thing.

But somehow the actual word for it is... I don't know. Not embarrassing, but it just sounds so serious and official. And it makes me wonder about finding a word for the Percy thing, and that _is_ embarrassing.

Jason laughs. "What? It's just a word."

I bury my face in my hands. "Is it that obvious?"

"Nah. You just looked like you were getting the sex talk from a Kindly One there for a minute, is all."

That mental image is so horrifying and bizarre that the only possible response is laughing. Trying to comprehend it in any other way would just cause my brain to melt. "Does anyone else know? Besides Piper."

"You, as of right now," Jason says. "Frank. Annabeth and Percy. But that's it."

"Oh," I say. "Well, it does explain a lot about why you trusted me at the House of Hades. We were both keeping the same kind of secret."

"No, you were just making good leadership decisions. And the real secret is that I sucked my thumb until I was twelve."

I look at him, trying not to laugh. "What?"

He shrugs. "I just thought if you were opening up to me, I could tell you stuff too. Is that okay?"

"Well-- yeah. But did it have to be something _weird_?"

Jason grins. "We're demigods. Weird is pretty much the default."

I shrug. "Good point."

"So, uh, I should probably try to get some sleep," Jason says. "No offense, but you've slept most of the time we've been down here. It has to be your turn to keep watch by now."

"No, you're right," I say. I peel myself off the wall, glad that the dizziness from shadow traveling is gone. (The dizziness from talking to Jason, alone, at night, is another story.) "Maybe the mormlets had some kind of sleep magic."

"Or maybe you usually stay up way too late trying to design a single-player version of Mythomagic."

"Frank was the only one who knew about that! Unless--"

"My fly on the wall is an actual fly on the wall."

I sigh. "Just don't tell anyone else. That's literally a top-secret project. Hermes cabin may be on their way to kill me right now."

Jason laughs, but he has no idea that I'm serious. Hermes cabin is having a game design contest, or they were last time I checked. They may have blown the cabin up by now.

"Chill. I think it's totally cool. D'you know there was once a Dungeons & Drakons league at Camp Jupiter?"

"Nerds? In New Rome? Shocking."

"I guess I was _on_ said D &D league before the whole Juno thing. I mean, I don't really remember it. But your secret nerd identity is safe with me." He pauses. "And Frank, who would like you to retire your flyswatter."

I can't help smiling. I just hope he doesn't see it. We might be on mutual-crush terms, but that doesn't mean I'm ready to just jump into it. "Thanks, I guess."

Jason and I walk side by side back to the room. He leans into me to try and push me over, but I push him back. Then, about a minute later, he trips on a small boulder that just happens to pop up in the middle of the corridor. We could get in serious trouble for goofing off inside the castle, but I'm beyond caring at this point.

The door is still on the hinges when we get there, which is a good sign. Annabeth must still be asleep.

And Jason still hasn't said anything about talking with my father, which is starting to piss me off a little bit. It's one thing to get caught up in joking and forget to mention it, but it's another thing to deliberately withhold information. Especially on a quest. But I can't let him know that I know-- then _I_ would be the jerk for not telling him what I saw. It's going to have to be him, not me, who brings it up.

"Uh, I guess I'll go wake Annabeth up so I don't scare the crap out of her."

"Good plan," I say.

"So, uh, goodnight."

"Goodnight."

Jason frowns. "Are you okay? Did I say something wrong?"

"No," I say. It's so easy to fall back into old habits. Especially bad ones. Such as shutting people out because it's less uncomfortable than talking to them like a normal person. "I'm just thinking about tomorrow."

Jason nods. "Ah. Got it. If you wanna talk about it..." He gestures over his shoulder as he disappears into the dark room. "You know where I'll be."

"Yeah. Goodnight, Jason."

"'Night, Nico."

The last thing I see before the door closes is Jason's smile.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You may have noticed that this is chapter 16 of 25. Know what that means? This is the update where I've officially finished writing the entire story. Updates will be Monday/Wednesday/Friday until all the chapters are posted.
> 
> Thanks again for all your comments and kudos!


	17. Chapter 17

I wake up on the floor with a group of ghouls around me. I don't think I've ever drawn my sword this fast. The ghouls scatter.

I must have fallen asleep on watch. Good thing we were relatively safe from the start. I don't think Persephone would have let anything happen to us, but even Immortals have to sleep some time.

It's also a good thing no one but those few servants saw me sleeping in the hallway. _That_ would have been fun to explain to my father. Nothing says "may the gods bless you for your hospitality" like not sleeping in the room you were supposed to stay in.

I sigh and put my sword away. Maybe this quest just happened at a bad time. Maybe we should have waited and put together a better strategy than charging ahead without knowing what we were getting into. Don't most search and recovery quests involve at least a vague idea of knowing what in Hades you're doing?

But... I can't let myself keep thinking like that. If I believe we'll fail before we've even started, what's the point in trying at all? I might as well turn back and save us the trouble if I don't believe we can do this. And I do believe we can. We wouldn't _be_ here otherwise.

I feel myself stand up a little straighter. Of course we can do this. We know where to find Percy. We've taken care of everything else. All we have to do after that is leave. The gods will take care of the rest.

Funny, how a little pep talk like that can shed a whole new light on things.

I'm about to knock on the door to wake Jason and Annabeth when the door opens by itself. No-- not by itself. Annabeth is opening it. She looks less tired than she did last night. More ready. I wonder how much she cried. I wonder if Jason helped her.

The strange thing is, I don't feel jealous at all. Me, the son of Hades with a jealous streak as wide as the river Styx. Annabeth probably did cry on Jason's shoulder last night. For hours, even. But she's not remotely on Jason's radar, and he's not on hers.

I guess that answers the question of whether guys and girls can just be friends. Hermes cabin owes me twenty drachmas.

"Hey," I say. "You ready for today?"

"You really want to know?"

"I asked, didn't I?"

Annabeth actually smiles. "It feels like my world has been black and white for the past two months," she says. "And I'm about to get the color back."

"That's-- awesome. I'm glad," I say, and I mean it.

I wish I could decide whether I'm over Percy or not. This whole flip-flopping thing is getting kind of old.

Of course I'm happy for them-- they just _belong_ together, like Cupid and Psyche, or Pyramus and Thisbe. I can't possibly be wrong for wanting some part of that-- can I? At what point does happiness for someone else cross over into jealousy?

I don't have time to wallow in self-pity-- Jason comes out of the door with Annabeth's pack slung over his shoulder. He almost knocks me over as he collides with me. (Note to self: stand up straighter. I'm 5'7", for Hades' sake. I shouldn't be this easy to crash into.) But he catches my wrists before I make friends with the ground.

"Whoa," Jason says, helping me regain my footing. "You okay?"

"Yeah," I say, hoping I don't sound as embarrassed as I think I do. I try my hardest not to look up at him like some lovestruck Aphrodite kid. (I _probably_ fail on that one.) "I'm fine."

Annabeth clears her throat. "So, let's get going?"

"Ah," Jason says. "Yeah. Let's. Let's go."

It's my turn to clear my throat. Jason drops my hands and brushes off the front of his shirt.

So we're _not_ talking about last night. Got it. And he seemed a little awkward with Annabeth, too-- like they talked about something I'm not supposed to know about. I get it, they have the whole "we can't eat the food here" alliance. I know they're not doing it on purpose, but I can't help feeling at least a little bit left out.

But it's fine. I'll live with it. After this quest is over, I can avoid them both-- and Percy-- as much as I want. That's the think about being welcome in both camps. I can leave whenever I feel like it. And I feel like it pretty often.

Annabeth's mind for architecture means she's basically a walking map of any building you put her in. She leads Jason and me out the main entrance into the Garden of Persephone. He still hasn't said a word-- about _anything_ that happened last night.

The lady of the house is pruning hedges with some wicked-looking shears. And-- Eurydice is here again, too? That's weird. She and Annabeth exchange glances as we walk past, but no one says anything.

There's something going on that I don't know about.

As soon as we reach the gates of the castle, Annabeth calls Mrs. O'Leary. Of all the demigods who look after her, she likes Annabeth best, I think. She was a gift to Percy from Daedalus, whom Annabeth would have respected more if he hadn't killed his nephew. But nobody's perfect. In a weird way, Mrs. O'Leary is Percy's and Annabeth's dog. I have no doubt that she'll be around when they have a little condo together in Elysium-- by which time I will have overthrown my father, gained immortality, and taken the throne as King of the Dead. But, y'know, baby steps.

Mrs. O'Leary coats us all in dog slobber. I laugh. It's been a long time since I've seen her-- or Bob. I visited him a lot before the war, but I haven't had the time since then. We all thought he'd been killed at the Doors of Death. I'll be glad to see him-- but I'm worried, too. If he's remembering things about his life as a Titan, getting Percy back might not be as easy as we thought.

"All aboard," I say, climbing on to Mrs. O'Leary's back. I could shadow travel, but I can't seem to sense Bob anywhere. Percy's signal blinks in and out, too. Frozen moon hides flowing water. Funny how prophecies mean exactly what they say, except when they don't.

Jason climbs up after me, and Annabeth follows him. I haven't ridden a Hellhound since-- when did Percy and I visit Luke Castellan's mother? Well, not like it matters. It's like riding a bike. A three-ton bike with four legs, flaming eyes, and glow-in-the-dark saliva.

And it's going to be a lot more difficult than usual with Jason holding on to me so no one falls off. Maybe I should have let Annabeth drive. Maybe she should be sitting in the middle so she can give me directions. Di immortales! I should have thought this through.

"So, uh, where am I going?"

"Way upriver," Annabeth shouts. Mrs. O'Leary has already taken off at a full gallop, and her footfalls shake the ground. The wind whips my hair into truly unbelievable knots, which I am going to regret _so_ much in a few hours. Maybe I should take Piper's advice and start wearing it in a ponytail.

"How far? Can you give me a heading?"

"Almost due west," Annabeth says. "The river flows out a long ways. They're camped by the Acheron."

"Wait, _how_ far upriver?" Jason asks.

I turn around to look at them. (Mrs. O'Leary knows where she's going, trust me.)

"A ways," Annabeth says. "It might be faster if-- do you think-- can you shadow travel?"

Wait a minute. It's so far that it's actually _more_ convenient for me to be dead tired when we get there than to ride our giant dog? But-- then how did...

"How in Hades did _you_ get there?" I ask.

Annabeth looks scared. She said something she shouldn't have. She looks at Jason, who's looking back and forth between us. He's meant to be the mediator here.

"What in Hades is going on, you guys? We're supposed to be a _team_ here."

"Nico-- I'm sorry. I should have told you the whole plan instead of--"

"No, it's fine. If it's faster for me to shadow travel, then I'll see you there."

I don't waste any time listening to excuses. Shadows are plentiful in the Underworld, so I disappear as quickly as I can without making myself sick (that would totally ruin the effect). Jason grabs onto Mrs. O'Leary's spiked collar to keep himself and Annabeth from falling off. That's the last thing I see before the world flickers back into view on the riverbank.


	18. Chapter 18

I can barely feel Percy at the very edge of my perception. The signal is weak, like I need to move the rabbit ears. (Note for those of you who were _not_ born in the 1930s: those are what we called television antennas. Note for those of you who only watch Netflix: I don't know how to help you.) It's like knowing you're being watched, but not being able to tell where it's coming from. All the water nearby is interfering with my sense of him, too. He would be easy to find in Asphodel, but this isn't Asphodel.

This far away from the palace and Elysium and Asphodel, there's just... nothing. The dirt is gray, the sky is gray, the water is gray. The river is wide and the land is flat. It's the most boring terrain under Earth. And it goes on forever. Want to find out the grand total population of the Underworld? Just count literally everyone who has ever lived, is currently living, or will ever live.

Yeah, the Romans call that feeling _memento mori_ : remember that you will die. Fun guys, those Romans.

I can't believe Jason and Annabeth made some kind of plan without me. That feeling I had earlier about being left out turned out to be correct, as usual. Why do I bother trying to make friends, again? Even the ones who claim to care about me turn out to be keeping secrets in the end.

I sink to the ground on the riverbank and pick at some grayish grass. Damn it, I'm allowed to be angry about this. The one time in my life where it seems like things are going right and it gets screwed up. At least it wasn't my fault this time.

Something plops in the river. I look up. Nothing there. Ghosts messing with me. Like they don't know I'm their king or something. They must be either extremely new or maddeningly bored.

"Real funny, guys." I stare at my shoes some more. What else are they planning without me? I bet Annabeth knows Jason was talking to my father last night. Maybe he went out again and got her papyrus back. They could do just fine on this quest without me, I bet. I'm only here because they needed a way in.

Something plops again, like someone's thrown a handful of stones.

"I said quit i--"

My heart stops.

Percy Jackson is grinning at me from across the river.

He looks... well, dead. But he looks good, for being dead. His eyes are still green, not black like most ghosts. He doesn't look quite as washed-out as he should be. He looks almost alive. Like there's something in him that just _can't_ die. Like he hasn't eaten enough blue M &M's or hugged his mom enough yet.

"Percy?"

"I was wondering when the Ghost King was going to drop in and say hi," Percy says. It's eerie, to see him wade through the river. The water doesn't touch him, but it flows through him somehow. Most ghosts can't stand the river's waters. He must be more alive than dead. And if he weren't a son of Poseidon, he would be in a great deal of pain right now.

"Well, this is me. Saying hi."

Percy sits on the river bank next to me. "Your dad want to see you or what?"

I hesitate. Annabeth and Jason will be here soon. I should tell him about the quest. Should. But if they can keep secrets, so can I.

"Something like that." It's amazing how easy it is to lie to him. Almost like I've been doing it for years or something.

"Well, good of you to stop in," Percy says. "You know Bob survived the Doors of Death? If it weren't for him, I'd be in Elysium right now."

I smile, but it's bitter. Feels wrong. "You say that like it's a bad thing."

Percy shrugs, and parts of him seem to lag and hang in the air, almost like smoke. It's so easy to forget he's dead when he's right here, lying back on his elbows in the dry gray grass. "Being dead isn't for me," he says. "You guys don't have any blue Oreos."

"There is _no_ such thing as blue Oreos."

"Dude, have you _met_ my mom? There can be blue _anything_."

I smile and this time it's for real. "Like blue birthday cake," I say. Percy's fifteenth birthday party. I remember that night. It was when I realized what it meant when my hands got sweaty around him and I couldn't think straight whenever I thought about the way he laughed.

"Yeah," he says. "Exactly."

Percy lies back and stares up at the gray sky. I watch the river. It's amazing that something so big and powerful is created by nothing but hundreds of tiny streams all coming together at the right moment. You could step over a stream. But a river like this can sweep you away before you realize it. You can go with the current, or you can fight it. But you can't do both.

"Can I ask you something?" I say.

"Sure, about what?"

I snort. "Rachel Dare."

"You came all the way to the Underworld to ask me about Rachel?"

"No," I say. "But since I'm here..."

"Right, right. Okay. What about her?"

"What did you do when you couldn't decide between her and Annabeth?"

Percy sits up and looks at me like I'm missing an eyebrow. "Dude. Are you having girl trouble?"

My turn. I look at him like he has green skin.

"Sorry," he says, and he means it. "I forgot. Guy trouble."

"You could say that."

Percy shrugs. "What did I do when I couldn't choose, huh." He whistles tunelessly, clicks his teeth. "I just chose," he finally says. "Sucky advice, but that's all I got. Listen to your heart, I guess? I don't know."

What would Jason have told me, I wonder? He was in a similar situation with Piper and Reyna (which, again, I have been sworn to secrecy not to talk about). Jason chose Piper because being with Reyna would have brought up too many bad memories-- some of which he didn't even actually remember. I've had my share of bad memories. And Percy's non-advice is exactly what I needed to hear.

"Yeah," I say. "That makes sense." That vaguely crunchy squishing noise would be what's left of my heart disintegrating. "Thanks."

"No problem," Percy says. "So did you want to see Bob, or?"

"Oh," I say. "Yeah. It's been a while."

I stand from the riverbank and almost go to help him up before I realize not only would it do no good, it would also be a horrible idea for me to touch him even if he _were_ alive. I did just make the decision to stop beating myself up over him, I mean. I don't need to accidentally undo all my hard work.

"We've got a sweet cave over here," Percy says. "No wifi, but it's not like demigods have a lot of use for that anyway."

"Dead people have _extremely_ boring Tumblrs,"I say. Percy laughs. When am I allowed to start hating myself, again? Because right here, right now, walking along the riverbank with the guy I've idolized for the past five years sounds like a _great_ time.

All I can think about as we come up on the cave is how angry Annabeth is going to be. About the way I shadow traveled away, about how I got to see Percy first, I don't know. She'll figure something out. And it's going to be my problem when she does.


	19. Chapter 19

I hear Bob before I see him. He's singing-- loud, joyful, and off-key-- about plucking a bird, naming its body parts as he goes through the song. I recognize it because Hazel sings it. But I didn't know Bob could speak French.

"Percy," I say. He stops. "Didn't Bob get his memories back at the Doors of Death?"

He frowns. "Yeah, I think so. But wasn't it temporary?"

"I don't know. Does he always sing in French?"

"Sometimes."

"And you're not worried that he's becoming more Titan and less Bob? Permanently this time?"

"I slam-dunked him into the Lethe, Nico."

I sigh, frustrated. "It wears off. Especially for Immortals."

"We have nothing to worry about," Percy says.

I cross my arms. Fine. If he's going to treat me like a little kid, then I'm going to be mad at him like one.

Except... I'm not. I can't stay mad at Percy. Well, I guess I can-- I'm still beyond furious that he broke his promise to keep my sister Bianca safe. And that was almost four years ago.

But there are more important things on my mind. (Like not tripping over that rock. Good save, di Angelo.) I have to focus on stalling until Annabeth and Jason get here. Then I have to deal with whatever righteous fury Annabeth unleashes on me for potentially compromising the quest. Of all the terrible plans I've come up with, this ranks right under listening to Pollux when he told me to call up some zombies "for the Vine". (I never did find out what that means. But I feel like Pollux's father Dionysus wasn't too happy about it when he heard about it.)

Percy rounds the corner to a wide opening in a wall of rough gray stone that I almost walk straight into. I try to pretend it wasn't because I'm trying to figure out exactly whom to be angry at, but let's be honest, it was.

"Bob?" Percy calls. Cautiously. Too cautiously. That means Percy was lying to me when he said we had nothing to worry about. And _that_ means that right now, I _should_ be mad at Percy. Point for going with your gut, di Angelo.

"I thought you said we had nothing to worry about."

"I just don't wanna startle him." Percy takes a step into the cavern and I follow, close but not too close. "Hey, Bob? It's Percy. I brought somebody you might wanna see."

The French singing stops. Maybe the line of the prophecy about this was more sinister than it sounded. For my own peace of mind, I look around and start cataloguing escape routes and things I could use as weapons if my sword isn't enough.

Bob turns around. He's standing in the designated kitchen area. It takes up the entire right half of the cave. Bob's face lights up when he sees me and I let out the breath I didn't know I'd been holding.

"My friend Nico!" Bob says. I brace myself for the inevitable, bone-crushing hug, which, of course, comes like death on swift wings. He picks me up off the ground and swings me around.

"Nice-- see you-- Bob," I manage to say. I cast a pleading glance at Percy. He's going to owe me one after all this is over.

"Um, maybe you should put your friend Nico down," Percy says. "You're squishing him."

"Oh," Bob says. "Sorry, Nico." He sets me down and makes sure I don't fall over. He even brushes some dust out of my hair.

"Thanks," I say. "I think all my ribs are okay."

"But why are you here, Nico?" Bob asks. He puts down his cooking utensils and turns the heat off under whatever he's making on the stove. (Roc's egg omelets, maybe?) He takes off his oversized chef's hat, and his gray hair stands up in all directions.

This is one of those times where I'm actually glad I inherited something of my father's: his ability to lie his ass off.

"I just wanted to see you guys," I say. The best part of this lie is that it isn't-- I _did_ want to see Bob. I had no idea if he survived the Doors of Death. When you have as few friends as I do, you kinda have to check up on them every once in a while. Even the immortal ones.

"I'm glad you're here," Bob says. "Will you stay for breakfast?"

"I can't stay long," I say. I _almost_ feel bad for lying, but then I remember that Percy lied to me. I have to come up with something else, though. There are more demigods on the way. With Bob speaking French and making breakfast, I have no idea whether it's going to look like a surprise or an ambush.

Truth is, I thought Bob had already regained his Titan memories. We all did-- we were treating him like something of a Luke Castellan figure, the bad guy who chose to do good in the end. I've never heard of the Lethe waters' effect waxing and waning. Even Bob's son Prometheus couldn't have predicted something like this.

"No?" Percy asks. "Where are you going in such a hurry?"

"Ghost King stuff," I say. There's an immortality hearing today. And I'm a judge of the dead, so..."

"Gotcha. Well, you should visit more often. You know where I live now, so no excuses."

"You earned Elysium, though," I say, before I can stop myself.

Percy sighs and crosses over to the kitchen to help clean up the prep dishes. He picks up a bowl from the sink, then puts it down. "They won't let me build my own place," he says. "Some kind of zoning law."

I spring up from leaning on the back of the couch. "What? Bullshit." I look up, and Bob looks scandalized at my language. "Sorry. They just don't like Zeus and Poseidon's kids. Ugh! You save the freakin' world and they won't even let you build a-- ugh." I cut myself off and take a few deep breaths through my nose. "Sorry. Italian."

Percy laughs and looks at my over his shoulder. (For a moment, I can almost pretend it's just us, having a conversation over breakfast... But just for a moment.) "Dude. Puertorriqueño. You should hear my mom when she gets going, she--" He stops, blinks. "How is my mom, anyway?"

My heart drops into my stomach. I shouldn't be telling him any of this-- the dead aren't supposed to have any connection to their past lives. But we _are_ bringing Percy back from the dead. Chiron probably has Sally on the phone right now, telling her to come to camp as soon as possible. I try to pretend I'm doing this for her. But I can't help feeling a dark satisfaction that I'm Percy's only link to the world of the living.

"She's doing better," I say. "She had to leave when they-- when they burnt your shroud. Annabeth and Grover and I went with her. We went to McDonald's. We burnt some for you and Luke."

"Oh," Percy says. "How are Grover and Annabeth?"

There it is. The million-drachma question that I don't want to get caught in a lie about. The rational part of me knew he would ask. But the irrational part that still makes my stomach do backflips whenever he looks at me was desperately clinging to the hope that he wouldn't.

"I think I made her mad," I say. True. Safe.

"Why? How?"

I start to explain, to untangle the lie I backed myself into here, but there's a rumbling, thudding noise outside that I recognize immediately. I fight the almost overwhelming urge to disappear into the shadows.

It's time to start handling my problems like someone who actually deserves to lead a quest instead of a scared kid. I don't need to prove anyone wrong about me. I just need to act like I knew they were wrong all along.


	20. Chapter 20

Not that I'm not happy to see her or anything, but I could do without being covered in dog slobber for the second time this morning. Mrs. O'Leary's massive head takes up half the cave entrance. She knocks Percy down, so at least I'm luckier than he is.

I try to hide behind the kitchen island to avoid the wolf stare Annabeth is sending m way. No luck.

"More friends?" Bob says. He sounds-- not confused, but not entirely sure what's going on, either. Like he's not asking if Percy has brought more friends, but if these are even friends at all.

"More friends," Percy says, trying to avoid Mrs. O'Leary's slobber. Annabeth, laughing, helps him up.

"I don't have enough breakfast for all my friends," Bob says.

"That's fine," Jason says. "We're not hungry. We just ate. Right, Annabeth?"

"Yeah," Annabeth says. "I'm stuffed."

They're not _bad_ liars, but if Bob had all his Titan senses right now, I hate to think what would happen. He would turn on them in less than a heartbeat.

Bob shakes his head. "Silly children. Always snacking."

Percy gestures towards the living room area. Mrs O'Leary whines.

"I'll be right back, girl," Percy says. She thumps her tail on the ground, rattling the dishes.

There are two couches facing each other with a low table in the middle. Percy sits next to Annabeth (predictable). But I was going to sit next to Jason anyway (also predictable).

"How did you guys even get down here?" Percy asks.

"Ah, that would be my fault," I say. "We're on a quest."

"What kind of quest involves visiting ghosts in your free time?"

"Percy," Annabeth says, "we're here to bring you home."

Behind Jason and me, Bob drops a plate. I feel him flinch; Annabeth and Percy jump too.

"Everything is okay," he says. Jason and I turn back around, slowly. Annabeth's arm is draped on the couch behind Percy's shoulders. Not being able to touch him must be killing her. I know it's killing me.

He was never mine to lose, so why do I feel like I'm losing him again?

Jason nudges me with his elbow. I nudge him back-- I'm okay.

"But what's the catch?" Percy asks.

"No catch," Annabeth says, before I can explain what we know about the prophecy. Yeah, she's definitely up to something. I nudge Jason again, asking him to explain-- but he looks away, pretending to be interested in some cave drawings.

I stomp on his foot.

"Well, uh, when are we leaving?"

Jason and Annabeth look at each other. Jason starts to say "now", but there's the awful sound of a knife being stabbed into a wooden cutting board. We all turn around.

Bob's eyes are glowing. Yeah, glowing eyes are never a good sign no matter what you're dealing with. Sometimes the Maidens of Artemis do it. I usually start running at those times.

It would be less scary if his mouth weren't also glowing. Annabeth covers her eyes in case we're about to witness a true form exposure here. But the glowing subsides.

"You can't leave," Iapetus says, his voice thrumming with power.

Percy stands up. "What are you talking about?"

"Stay down," I hiss. To my surprise, he does. He's been on enough quests to know that when a friend tells you to do something in this particular tone of voice, they're trying to save your ass.

I don't know if it's true or not, but I've been told that I radiate standoffishness even at the best of times. It's worse when I'm angry. But it's gotten me out of situations like this before. It keeps my headstrong, battle-eager friends for getting themselves slaughtered, anyway. In this case, by an unstable Titan with confusing and painful memories that he doesn't understand.

"Bob," I say, gently, like talking down a scared wild animal. I stand up, and the muscles in my legs protest. I'm going to have to start running track with Hermes cabin again. "We'll visit you all the time."

"No!" Iapetus says. "You cannot go."

My internal monologue is cursing him out in three different languages. _Why_ do the gods have to make things so difficult for me?"

"Nic--" Jason begins, reaching for my arm.

"Stay _down_ ," I say. "He's going to interpret everything as a threat."

I can feel Annabeth's eyes on me. She knows what's happening. She must have seen this yesterday when she first found Bob. I feel a little more respect for her now. But I'm still angry that she seems to be keeping something from me. And I still have no idea how she got here.

"You must stay," Iapetus says.

I inch my hand toward my sword.

Why won't he let Percy leave? Wait, I remember. Iapetus is the Titan of mortal life span. Of course! Two live mortals, one who died before his time, and the Ghost King, all in one place-- no wonder his memories are returning. The sooner we leave, the better.

"No, Bob. We have to leave now. But we _will_ visit you."

"We have to go," Annabeth says, her voice low and insistent.

"You can't leave!" Bob's shout shakes the cave and bits of gravel fall from the ceiling.

Yeah, that's our cue. I draw my sword. "Go! Get the dog!"

Percy and Annabeth spring up and are halfway to the mouth of the cave before Bob throws the first toaster. But Jason hesitates.

"Aren't you coming?"

"Yes, but I'll have nothing to come _for_ if you don't get outside _right now_!"

Annabeth rolls her eyes. She grabs Jason's wrist and drags him out of the cave. And that's when the food processor goes sailing through the air-- and through Percy. It would be hilarious if we all weren't going to die.

I don't wast any time following everyone. Iapetus is beyond distracting now. His eyes blaze silver as he gathers up countertop appliances like stones for a sling.

A cutting board flies past my head. Jason pulls Annabeth up onto Mrs. O'Leary's back. But she won't be fast enough if Iapetus decides to chase us. I pray he doesn't.

"No! No! Get down, he can outrun us!"

Annabeth looks back and forth between Jason and me. Then she lets go of his hands and jumps down. Jason and Percy shrug at each other, then jump down after her.

Mrs. O'Leary looks confused, but she figures it out when Iapetus comes out of the cave with an armful of small appliances. She whines, looks at Percy, then takes off towards the river.

Jason dodges a blender. "What are we doing?!"

"Shadow traveling," I say, holding out my arms. "Grab on."

"You'll pass out," Annabeth protests.

"Do you _want_ to die, Chase?"

She looks conflicted, but she's out of options at the moment. She makes her mind up when another toaster barely misses her. Jason and Percy grab on too.

I force myself to clear my mind and breathe deeply even as another blender (Seriously? Who has two blenders?) and a spice rack fly past us. I feel the edges of my consciousness start to meld into the shadows that are ever-present in the underworld. The air in my lungs gets heavier and heavier. I feel a sharp jolt-- then the world goes dark.


	21. Chapter 21

I wake up with Jason and Percy kneeling over me. Any other day, I would consider this a good thing. But today has already gotten off to a bad start, and I'm not confident that it'll get any better. I'm not dead, and the numbers on the clock aren't changing every time I look, so I'm not dreaming.

Besides, I can taste blood. Something must have gone wrong. Percy stands up and goes somewhere else. Out of the room. I almost recognize this place, but I can't... It's not familiar enough. It's changed since the last time I was here.

"Where are we?" I ask. My mouth feels like I ate a wool sweater. I try to sit up, but Jason puts his hand on my shoulder and pushes me back down.

"Safe," he says. "I think."

I swat his hand away and sit up. My head swims, but I look around. "Where's Annabeth?"

"With Eurydice," Jason says.

I look around. I'm on the floor of a kitchen. Now that I think about it, I do recognize this place. Orpheus and Eurydice's condo. So this is where we ended up? I guess it could be worse. We could be inside a volcano or something. I can work with this.

"My head hurts," I say.

Jason looks away. Is he trying not to laugh?

"What? What happened?"

"Bob hit you with a can opener."

"That explains a lot." I sigh. "I was trying to get us back to the Central Park exit."

"Annabeth went to ask if Eurydice and Orpheus can get us back quicker."

"Oh. Even better. Where are they?" I hear the door shut-- that must be Percy. "Outside?"

"Yeah. Uh, listen..."

"What?"

"Annabeth wants to apologize. She told me to tell you--" he hesitates, trying to get the words right-- "that this is stressful for her, but it's not fair of her to take it out on you. And she thought it was cool how you saved our asses back there."

"Yeah?" I say. "No kidding."

Jason smiles. "I'm just the messenger. But for the record, I thought it was pretty cool, too."

"Well, I did teleport a two-ton ivory statue across the ocean once. Saving you guys? No sweat."

Jason smiles, and for a moment I can forget that I'm sitting on Orpheus' kitchen floor. But not for long. Percy and Annabeth are outside, and who knows what kind of conversation is going on out there. As the quest leader, I should be participating. Or at least not feeling like I'm going to throw up.

"You okay?" Jason asks.

"No," I say, "but I will be as soon as we get this _over_ with. Believe it or not, I want to go back to camp."

"That's a first."

"Yeah." I laugh, but I doubt he knows it's because I'm nervous. This is the part of the quest where things usually start going horribly wrong. I mean, not that getting attacked by moth bats and eavesdropping on my dad and running from an angry Titan count as things going well. But they could definitely be worse.

Jason stands up, using the granite countertop as leverage. I start to get up, too, but he holds out his hand to help me.

I take it. I figure that says something about me, like I'm done refusing help or something. But the real meaning is that I'm glad Jason's help is always sincere. Annoying, most of the time, but sincere.

"Thanks."

"No problem."

Jason smiles, and I blush and start to say something I know I'll regret. But the door opens, interrupting me. Thank the gods. Orpheus sticks his head inside.

"Hey, the dreamer awakes."

"Sorry I shadow traveled into your house."

"Don't sweat it," Orpheus says. "I knew you'd be back. Mrs. O'Leary told me."

"You speak dog?"

Orpheus looks confused. "I can commune with all animals, Nico. We've had this conversation before. Remember the incident at the picnic?"

I sigh. " _Don't_ remind me."

"No, no, I feel a haiku coming on. Nico's zombie horse / Has the arse of a rooster: / Hippalektryon."

I draw my sword and hand it to Jason. "Please kill me."

Jason laughs and refuses my sword. "You summoned a zombie rooster horse? That sounds like a _great_ story."

"In the middle of Orpheus' picnic with Calaϊs." I put my sword away and cross my arms. "It was _supposed_ to be a poetry lesson."

Orpheus comes into the living room and shuts the front door. "Come on, he thought it was funny."

"Yeah, and _I_ thought it was mortifying. Can we drop it, please?"

Orpheus shrugs. "He did think it was funny."

"Who's Calaϊs?" Jason asks.

"My boyfriend," Orpheus says. He glances over his shoulder at the door-- to make sure Eurydice isn't listening in. She doesn't like Calaϊs much. Or any of Orpheus' former boyfriends. Can't imagine why. The guy risks death and eternal punishment to rescue her, then turns around and ignores her half the time.

I watch Orpheus. Weren't they talking about Calaϊs and the rest of the Argonauts yesterday, while I was on the porch with Annabeth? Unless I've been mistaken this entire time and they were talking about something different. Which is apparently the case, because Jason is _totally_ clueless.

Jason looks back and forth between Orpheus and the huge, romantic oil painting of him and Eurydice hanging on the living room wall. "But--"

"On and off," Orpheus says.

"Does Eurydice, like, _know_ , or...?"

"She's usually fine with it."

Jason shrugs. "Just curious."

Orpheus claps his hands together, eager to change the subject. "So, you guys ready to leave the Underworld?"

Jason looks at me, and there's a flash of uncertainty on his face, but it disappears. "Yeah," he says. "Let's get going."

I'm getting _really_ frustrated at the fact that everyone seems to be keeping a secret from me. But if I bring it up, I might as well tell Jason upfront that I was listening in on him and Hades. I get the feeling my father let it happen that way on purpose. Jerk.

Eurydice opens the door and immediately smiles at me. "You're awake," she says. Behind her, Percy and Annabeth even manage to stop staring into each other's eyes long enough to look relieved.

"Yeah. Sorry about the shadow traveling thing."

"Worry not, Nico," Eurydice says. "I thought you might return."

Okay, so that's a little creepy. Someone in the underworld has been talking about me to Orpheus and Eurydice. I start to freak out, then I realize it was probably Persephone. She and Eurydice were talking in the Garden last night, after all. I'm a little confused that they decided to include Orpheus in all this, but I guess it makes sense. He does have the most experience in escaping from the Underworld.

"Are you prepared to leave?" Eurydice asks.

"Yeah, I think we're all ready."

"Then let us send you on your way."

Orpheus ushers Jason and me past Eurydice onto the porch. Percy is leaning against the railing; Annabeth is leaning against him. I resist the urge to roll my eyes. You'd think he'd been lost in Asphodel or something, they way they haven't left each other's sight. I wonder if Annabeth knows that she could have asked me to look for him any time and I would have done it. Mostly for her, but also for me. Oh, well.

"It's too dangerous to go out the same way you came in," Orpheus says.

"Please tell me there's another gate to the Underworld somewhere in Manhattan," Jason says. "I am _not_ prepared for a road trip."

"Not Manhattan," Orpheus says. "Weehawken, on the other side of the Lincoln Tunnel."

Jason looks horrified. "We're going to _Jersey_?"

I'm proud of Jason's instant revulsion. He's almost a New Yorker already, and he lives in San Fransisco half the time.

"Technically," I say, "it's _in_ the Lincoln Tunnel. And why are we ignoring the gate in Amagansett? It's _way_ closer. And less likely to get us run over."

Orpheus looks at me. "There's no gate in Amagansett."

"Yeah, there-- oh. Oops. Did I not tell you? I may have raised a gate in Amagansett a couple years back."

Orpheus sighs. "I'm guessing this is another item on the increasingly long list of things your father isn't supposed to know about."

"Yeah, pretty much."

Annabeth coughs. "If there's a gate in Amagansett, _why_ did we go all the way to Manhattan?"

"Because Chiron doesn't know about it either," I say. And, because I can't resist, I add, "I'm pretty good at keeping secrets."

There. Now Annabeth knows that I know she's keeping _something_ from me. And Jason is none the wiser. He probably thinks I'm being self-deprecating and talking about, y'know, my _other_ secret. Which I kind of am, but whatever.

"Okay, so just use the Amagansett gate, then," Orpheus says, saving me from saying something I might regret. "No big deal. Where's the other end?"

I remember the silly promise I made one of my dad's horses last night-- that I would introduce them to Percy. I guess I'm going to make good on that. "Behind my father's stables."

"Whoa, wait, I can't go to the palace," Percy immediately protests. "I don't want to get Underworld arrested today. Or ever."

"We're not going to the palace, just the stables. And besides, my father promised we could bring you back. We've done everything we were supposed to do." I don't mention the part of the prophecy that involves me making a choice that could potentially leave him here for, like, ever.

"He _has_ broken promises to you before," Percy points out. Ouch. He means during the Battle of Manhattan, when my father "agreed" to help me help Percy with the Curse of Achilles and then turned on us at the last second. I mean, Percy did go swimming in the Styx, but it almost cost me his friendship. But it's not like any of that was _my_ fault.

"Unless you _want_ to dodge cars on zombie horseback in the Lincoln Tunnel..."

"I prefer not dying," Percy says. "Again, I mean. But are you sure it's okay?"

"It'll be fine, Perce," Jason says. "Nico knows what he's talking about."

Jason! Convincing everyone to listen to me! I could kiss him right now.

Ahem. Metaphorically. And he's still not off the hook for whatever he and Annabeth are planning. Speaking of Annabeth, she's oddly quiet. But it's not like she's offering up an explanation, so I don't bother asking. It can wait. We have some horses to visit.


	22. Chapter 22

It's not a far walk from Orpheus' place to the palace, especially if you're trying to avoid the main roads. We go the back way to the stables. Unfortunately, this means walking through a lot of horse crap. At least it never rains in the Underworld.

I hear the taraxippoi before I see them. They can sense the man of the hour (who's currently hanging out behind Annabeth and Jason in case someone sees us). They're happy to see him, but they need to calm down before they attract too much attention.

"This is the spot," I say, looking over my shoulder and holding up a fist in an ancient Roman gesture that means 'stop walking before you all crash into me'. "Uh, but we have to do something first."

"Please tell me it doesn't involve skeleton horses," Percy says. "Because it sounds like they _really_ want my autograph."

"I promised them."

"Do we have time to keep promises to horses?" Annabeth says.

"I mean, my dad did kinda create them?" Percy says. His tone indicates that there might be trouble in paradise. But I've seen enough of their disagreements to know not to get my hopes up. Annabeth is just stressed because of this whole situation. In ten minutes, after we've said goodbye to the skeleton horses, she'll forget all about it.

"They haven't seen the ocean in a thousand years," I say. I want to add that that's nothing compared to the two months that Percy has been dead, but I don't. I want to keep my tongue in my head, and I don't doubt that she'd at least _threaten_ to cut it out. Jason would probably stop her before any tongue severing occurred. I hope.

"Five minutes."

Percy gives Annabeth a sheepish shrug as he follows me up the shallow slope behind the stables. The taraxippoi go nuts as I unlatch the heavy barn door. Can horses smile? Because Trómos, my favorite taraxippi, is smiling at me. In a horse way, I mean. She's probably glad I kept my promise. The taraxippoi stamp their hooves and toss their manes-- those of them that have hooves and manes, anyway.

"Percy Jackson, horse celebrity," I say. Percy laughs. I regret that Jason didn't kill me earlier. Every time I make Percy laugh just reminds me that I can't have him. I try not to let myself think stuff like that, because _seriously?_ , but it just... happens. I'm sad about Percy Jackson and that's that.

Percy immediately falls in love with the horses, of course. And they adore him. I hope he realizes he's going to cause a riot if he doesn't say hi to everyone. But, because he's Percy, he _does_ greet them all individually. He even asks for all their names. Gods save me from the horse-whispering son of Poseidon who probably doesn't know I exist half the time.

I can only stand there next to Trómos, watching Percy talk to my dad's twenty undead horses. She nudges me towards him with her nose, but I'm not having it. No animal matchmakers for me today, thanks. I lean against the wall. Percy talks to the horses. I'm embarrassed to admit that I kind of zone out watching him-- he just seems so at peace here, like he could talk to zombie horses all day and he'd be fine with it.

But I snap out of it when he's suddenly _right_ next to me, talking to Trómos.

"You're a pretty special girl, huh?" he asks. He laughs. "She says she's your favorite."

"Don't tell the others she said that," I say.

"So she _is_ your favorite."

I shrug. "Maybe. The other ones always throw me off. She's the only one that actually lets me ride her."

"Maybe you're just _her_ favorite," Percy says. He rubs the soft spot on Trómos' nose. "She's really glad you brought me to meet her."

I laugh and run my fingers through her mane. "Aww, at least someone appreciates me, eh, girl?"

"Aw, dude. People totally appreciate you. We couldn't have won the war without you and Reyna."

I frown. "There are more things people don't like about me than things they do."

"Come on, that's not true."

I snort. "You can't be serious."

"Try me," Percy says. He's determined to make me not hate myself. It's starting to piss me off.

"I'm a gay son of Hades who was born almost a century ago. How much of that says 'I'm normal and well-adjusted, please approach me', exactly?"

"But people still talk to you, don't they?"

" _So_ not the point I was trying to make."

"But am I right?"

I sigh and wish I still had my oversized bomber jacket. (Piper declared it a crime against fashion, said she was glad it was at the bottom of the Atlantic ocean, and got me a new one immediately. I lost that one yesterday. She'll be delighted.) Now I just have to push people away with the force of my personality alone.

"Yes, you are. But being my friend is something people do against their better judgement."

"What about Hermes cabin? You have tons of friends there."

"It's Hermes cabin-- they _have_ no better judgement," I say. Then I frown. "How did you know I hang out with Hermes cabin?"

Percy goes pale, which is an impressive accomplishment for a ghost. "I mean, they're friends with everybody, right?"

"And you knew Reyna saved us all during the war."

"Everybody knows that."

"Have you been haunting camp?"

Percy hesitates, then crosses his arms. "I didn't know what else to do."

"You could have said something to me. Or to Hazel. You could have appeared to someone in a dream. You could have knocked over all the glasses in the dining hall, I don't know, Percy, you could have done _something_. Anything besides not let us know."

"I didn't think there was anything anyone could do."

"I brought Hazel back," I say. "You knew that."

"She's your sister."

"Your dad is my uncle!"

"Gods don't count as family."

"They do in the Underworld, that's why I could never--" I throw my hands up and sigh. Explaining the Underworld to outsiders is like convincing a fish to take up unicycling. They just don't get it. "Whatever. I just hope you realize Annabeth was _mute_ for two months because you didn't want to knock on the wall or cause a cold spot."

"I didn't _know_ what to _do_ , Nico."

"Yeah, but you still could have done _something_."

Percy looks hurt, confused-- good. Maybe he'll realize what he does to people when he acts so reckless and selfish. Maybe he'll finally feel a little of what I felt for all these years. But because he's Percy, he soldiers on.

"I should have gone to you and Hazel."

"No kidding." I cross my arms and the stables feel even colder than usual. All the taraxippoi go quiet, hoping to hear what happens next.

"You have every right to be angry with me."

"Yeah." Trómos whinnies at me. Then she looks at Percy and snorts, blowing snot on him.

"I deserved that. And she says I'm a big jerk and I don't know when to keep my mouth shut."

"She's right."

"I'm _sorry_ , Nico. I just-- wanted to see everyone. I wanted to know everyone was safe."

"Look, just-- drop it." I let my arms fall to my sides. "Let's go."

"Is there anything I can say to fix this?"

I glare at him.

"Okay, stupid question."

"Don't worry about me," I say, keeping my voice even. I pat Trómos' neck. "Just worry about what Annabeth is going to say when I tell her you could have come back two months ago and that we wasted all that time throwing parties." I glare at Percy again, then turn and go through the open stable door without a word.

I don't bother to close it. I want the satisfaction of knowing that he'll have to.

 


	23. Chapter 23

Jason is the first to notice something is wrong. He doesn't say anything, but the look on his face is enough for me to know what he's thinking.

We're so close to finishing this quest, to leaving the Underworld-- the gate is under a giant boulder to my right. Not my subtlest hiding place.

"Nothing," I say. "Percy's just keeping secrets like everyone else on this freaking train wreck of a quest."

Annabeth scoffs. "What?"

"He's been haunting camp for the past two months, not talking to anyone."

Annabeth frowns. "That can't be right."

"Ask him yourself."

Percy looks concerned as he comes down the hill. I know he heard us-- sound carries differently for ghosts. Annabeth asks without saying a word-- her eyes tell the whole story.

"It's not what it sounds like," Percy says.

"See? Keeping secrets. Just like everyone else."

"Some things need to be kept secret." Annabeth crosses her arms.

"Yeah? So secret you need to keep them from the quest leader? Who was that again? Oh, yeah-- me."

"Yes," Annabeth says, the tone of her voice daring me to argue.

Which I do. "We're supposed to be a team. Not sharing your strategy gets people _killed_."

"Maybe that was the whole point."

"What in Hades is _that_ supposed to mean?"

"That this was never a rescue mission."

"Then what was it?"

Annabeth drops her gaze. "A suicide mission."

As soon as she says it, everything falls into place. The unsettling feeling that has been bothering me all morning fades away. Frustration and anger replace it.

But it all makes sense. Rachel telling her the prophecy. Sticking close to Jason-- because if she paired up with me, I would have found out. Even Eurydice must have known. She begged Persephone to convince Hades for Percy's sake-- she must have wanted Annabeth to live with him in Elysium.

"So the papyrus my father took from you," I say, slowly. I'm not sure whether I should be angry that she lied to me, or impressed that she planned everything to the smallest detail.

"Was my eulogy."

"Then it was the only reason he agreed to this. It's a miracle he didn't laugh in our faces and tell us to fuck off." I shake my head. "How could a daughter of Athena be so thoughtless?"

Annabeth just looks more resolute. She stares me in the face. "Hades would never let Percy go. Even if it meant starting a war."

"So this is what? The next best thing?"

Annabeth drops her gaze. I look back and forth between her and Percy. He looks sad in the way all ghosts do when they want to touch someone but can't. He's still trying to put it all together. So he didn't know about this either. And I can't resist getting in a dig at him.

"You see why I don't try to make friends, Percy? Because this is what happens. I get lied to."

Jason breaks in. "Nico, that's not--"

I turn my tirade to him. Not even Jason is exempt. "Not what? Fair? What's not fair is how you didn't try to stop her from going through with this."

"Like I could stop Annabeth?" Jason looks her up and down. "No offense, but she could kick my ass right now and I wouldn't even realize it until I was checking to see how many teeth I had left."

I throw my hands up. "But you could have _told_ me, at least! There are legitimate ways to recover souls from my father. This? This is just ridiculous. What would Daedalus think, huh, Annabeth?"

Annabeth's head snaps up at the mention of her former tutor's name. "This plan," she says. "It was in his laptop. I remember. He had all kinds of strategies. Backup plans for things that never happened. I remember reading it..." She trails off when she realizes even she doesn't believe what she's saying.

I shake my head. "Sorry. You're a really bad liar, Chase."

I turn my back on the three of them. The ground rumbles as I call for the gate. The boulder falls in four pieces and an elevator door rises up from the ground. I feel fear behind me. The gate looks like the Doors of Death. It must remind them of Tartarus. But the fear subsides when they realize it's not what they think it is.

"I can't leave." Annabeth's voice is frantic, fraying at the edges. Scared.

I turn around. "What?"

"Last night," Annabeth says, "when you were asleep. Jason was asleep too, so I went out. To see Eurydice." She bites her lip. "I mean, I only ate one, but that's enough, right? I can't leave."

This is beyond bad. She's not lying anymore.

"What was it?" I ask. I'm not sure if I want to know. I can't be angry anymore-- she's just as clueless as we are about what to do next. Underworld food is dangerous magic with power over life and death. Even a Ghost King can only do so much.

"An acorn."

I can't just turn my back on her, but at the same time-- can't I? It's like I was the only person who thought this quest was about saving Percy. Maybe Percy thought so, too, but he's only known about it for, like, an hour. Two hours max.

Percy. He's currently frowning, deep in thought. He looks around aimlessly, then snaps his fingers as he realizes something. "Jace, aren't oak trees sacred to your dad?"

Jason rubs his chin thoughtfully. "Yeah."

"So can't you, like, pray to him about this?"

I hold up my hands in protest. It's not a bad plan, except it would never work. "My dad won't allow that. There's no way. Annabeth _has_ to stay."

"Wait." Annabeth clears her throat. "Aren't we forgetting someone?"

Jason, Percy and I look at each other.

"You know. Daughter of Zeus, patron of girls-- which I am, by the way-- married to your dad--" she looks at me-- "leaves the Underworld for six months every year? Her?"

There's a rustle of leaves as the woman in question appears next to Annabeth. "An interesting way of invoking me," Persephone says. "But it will do."

"Please tell me _you_ didn't know about this too." The words fall out of my mouth before I can remember who I'm talking to. "Uh, my Lady."

Persephone smiles gracefully. "No, I was not aware of the girl's plan." She turns to Annabeth and gives her a pitying look. "It is true that you and I are forever tied to the Underworld. But it is also true that we may leave."

"It was my choice," Annabeth says. "I knew what I was doing."

Persephone's gaze slides over Jason like she doesn't quite believe he didn't have a hand in any of this. She doesn't look at Percy at all, because she _knows_ Annabeth was thinking about him when she made her choice. But she can't anything about that, because she chose to stay with my father.

"Will you guide her, Nico, when she must return?"

My stomach jumps into my throat. "I don't know, I--"

"Then will you instead condemn her to the kingdom of my husband, your father?"

"No. Of course not. She's done nothing wrong."

"Then it is done. I sentence you, Annabeth Leigh Chase, to spend in the Underworld--" Persephone breaks off and smiles-- "one week of every year."

Annabeth's eyes widen. "That's it?"

"You ate but one acorn, girl."

"Lady Persephone--" Annabeth looks close to tears. I don't think I've ever seen her cry, come to think of it. She had already stopped by the time I arrived on the battlefield to find her kneeling over Percy's body. "I don't know how to thank you, my Lady."

"Perhaps you can redesign this awful horse barn," Persephone says. She sounds serious, but there's a sparkle in her eye.

Percy speaks up. "Um, Persephone?"

"I have not forgotten you, son of Poseidon."

"Oh, no, it's not about me. I just wanted to know how many trees I should plant in your honor when I get back."

"Son of Poseidon, you may jest, but I think twenty would be a nice start." She smiles at him and her tone softens. "You do not belong in this kingdom, Perseus Jackson. You are much too full of life."

Percy jokes with my step-mom and Annabeth tries to stop crying. I fold my arms across my stomach. Percy and Annabeth, laughing, happy, together again-- just like the Fates ordained when the universe came into being. I can't help feeling jealous. But I can't be wrong for wanting to be happy.

Jason comes up beside me and nudges me with his elbow. "Hey."

"Hey."

"I'm sorry for not telling you."

I elbow him back. "You were just trying to look out for her." I laugh. "I talk and talk about my friends keeping secrets, but honestly? I would have done the same thing."

Jason smiles, but he looks away when I smile back. "I should also tell you," he says.

Oh, no. That's his guilty face. "What is it?"

"When Annabeth was with Eurydice, I was talking to your dad. Um, remember the part of the prophecy where--"

"You have to speak your soul? Yeah?" My stomach twists itself into knots for entirely the wrong reasons. I try to laugh, but I can't keep pretending. Everything comes out at once. "Jason-- I knew you went to see him. I mean, as long as we're being honest. I overheard part of your conversation with him, and I should have left, but I wanted to know what you thought, I mean, about _me_ , and I just--"

"Hey." Jason puts an arm around my shoulder. "Shh. It's okay."

I force myself to breathe through my nose and calm down. "I'm sorry. I'm totally creepy."

"You're not creepy."

"I totally am. And what did my dad say, anyway?"

"He wasn't exactly eager to give out his blessing," Jason says.

I bury my face in my hands. "See, now I feel _really_ creepy. You guys were totally talking about me."

"Well," Jason says, "maybe I like creepy."

I start to protest about how creepy things are creepy because we have an inherent psychological desire to avoid the sense of _wrongness_ they give us. But someone clears their throat and I snap back to reality, where Persephone is watching us, amused. Jason clears his throat and drops his arm. I look down, blushing furiously.

Persephone clears her throat again.

Jason and I look at each other and start laughing at the same time. I can't believe I was ever nervous about telling him what I think. How I feel. It was so _easy_ just now. For a moment, I had forgotten all about the rest of the world. It was just me and Jason. And it was... nice.

"Would you gentlemen care to return to the Upper world sometime today, or shall we wait a while longer?"


	24. Chapter 24

"Since Nico is currently--" Persephone is trying not to laugh, I can tell-- "exhausted from shadow traveling earlier, I will spare him the exertion of returning you to the Upper world."

Score. I was so not looking forward to having to maintain the gate _and_ shadow transport everyone back to camp.

"I will send you to the gate nearest to your camp, in Amagansett, so as not to incur Chiron's suspicion."

I frown. "How did you know about the--? Never mind. I just told you."

Persephone smiles. "You are learning, Nico, slowly but surely. Now, join hands in a circle," she says. "I will do the rest."

We all look at each other. Annabeth takes Percy's hand. Jason takes Annabeth's free hand, and I take his and try not to die.

Percy looks at me. "Well, this is it."

"Yeah." I take his hand, but I don't say anything else.

Persephone walks around us in a circle, chanting in a language much older than Greek. She touches us each on the shoulder, giving us her blessing to cross over. She pauses longer on Jason's shoulder-- maybe because they're basically half-siblings. I don't know.

Then it's my turn. Persephone rests her hand on my shoulder. Then she leans close to my ear and says, "Take care of my father's son, Nico. He cares a great deal for you."

I turn red and start to stammer something in protest, but she just laughs softly and pulls away.

"The spell is wrought," Persephone says. "So shall it be. And do not forget about my trees, Perseus Jackson."

I smell mint and lilies of the valley, the signature of her magic. A warm breeze blows around us. Jason squeezes my hand. I squeeze back. Shadows wash out to bleached beige, then get brighter and more defined. The fuzzy shapes start to fill with color; they sky turns blue, the grass turns green. Trees fade in.

And then we're standing in a clearing in the middle of the woods in Amagansett, New York. A deer takes one look at us-- four dirty, hungry, disheveled demigods-- and bolts in the opposite direction.

Smart deer.

I let go of Percy's hand; Annabeth lets go of Jason's. We all look around without saying a word. The wind blows.

"I can't believe it," Percy says.

I'm inclined to agree. It feels like a dream. But the ground under my feet is solid. Substantial. Dream. We're all alive. Even Percy.

"Well," Jason says, "we'll know it's real when we find a Waffle House."

Percy punches him in the shoulder.

"What? I haven't eaten since yesterday morning."

I laugh. "Camp is only a couple hours away."

Jason and Percy look at each other, horrified.

"A couple _hours_?"

"Where _are_ we?"

"East Hampton. It's a couple hours' walk. Unless you guys know a faster way.

Jason and Percy exchange determined glances.

"You thinking what I'm thinking?" Jason asks.

Percy cups his hands to his mouth and shouts into the sky. "Yo, Blackjack!"

Jason drops my hands and sticks his fingers in his mouth. Okay, I didn't know he could whistle like that. " _Ave_ , Tempest!"

Annabeth looks at me and rolls her eyes. "Boys," she mouths.

I stick my tongue out. She smiles.

Percy and Jason walk around the clearing, shouting and whistling for their horses. Annabeth steps closer to me.

"I want to apologize," she says. "And don't tell me not to."

I rub the back of my neck. "Shouldn't this be the other way around?"

She shrugs. "I'm sorry I've been so awful to you," she says. "I shouldn't have done what I did without asking you. But I was so _alone_ without him, Nico. I mean, not to be a jerk, but I'm sure you know how that feels."

I laugh. "Tell me about it."

"Percy just-- he doesn't understand what you feel. And it sucks, but he probably never will. And--" Annabeth laughs. "I'm way too young to be giving you this kind of advice. But trust me when I say that it hurts so much less if you let yourself get over someone who won't ever want you back."

"Luke," I say.

Annabeth nods. "Yeah."

"Let's talk about it more later," I say. "Maybe when we go to the Underworld. And, um, Annabeth?"

"Yeah?"

This is it. I'm letting someone in for the first time since I thought the coolest thing about the gods was that they got a +3/3 bonus when you tapped their associated element on the field.

"I'm sorry," I say. "For being an asshole. And for shutting you out all the time. You know better than anyone what I'm going through. And I think we should be better friends."

Annabeth smiles slowly. "You know? You're alright, Skull Boy."

I grin. "Beak Face."

There's an enormous flap of wings. Percy whoops and yells. A horse-- no, a pegasus-- half-flying and half-galloping around the clearing. "Who the man? You the man!" Blackjack whinnies and rolls in the grass. Thank the gods Blackjack was the _only_ pegasus that heeded Percy's call-- otherwise half the state of New York would already know he was back.

"Boys," I say.

"Boys," Annabeth agrees.

Jason's horse Tempest-- actually a storm spirit; Jason's not very creative with names-- appears next, galloping down from the clouds. It sprays rainwater and its winds whip up the grass and shake the pine branches around us. It's like a helicopter landing, only not as loud. Tempest, not wanting to miss an occasion to show off, does a few laps around the treetops. It stops on a drachma in front of Jason, sparking with miniature lightning.

Jason and Percy grin at each other. I can't wait until I get to ride Trómos with them and she scares Tempest and Blackjack. Her name does mean Terror, after all. With any luck, they'll get used to her. But I have to admit that it _will_ be hilarious the first few times Blackjack throws Percy because he's scared of her.

"All aboard the Blackjack Express," Percy says, jogging up to Annabeth. Blackjack walks behind him. I'm vaguely aware of Blackjack stooping so Annabeth and Percy can climb on his back, but I'm more aware of Jason.

  
"So, uh, you're gonna have to trust me when I say my dad won't blast us out of the sky."

"That's reassuring." I laugh. "But I do. Trust you, I mean."

Jason smiles. He whistles for Tempest-- quieter, this time, thank the gods. He helps me onto the storm spirit's back. It's nothing like riding a taraxippi, that's for sure. I'm almost afraid I'm going to fall off before we're even in the air, but Jason climbs on Tempest's back behind me and puts his arms around my waist. I mean, I know he has to grab Tempest's mane and everything, but no force on Earth can convince me he doesn't _also_ just want to put his arms around my waist.

"Ready?" he asks.

I start to say something like "hell yeah" or "born ready" that's going to sound totally stupid as soon as I finish saying it, but a gust of wind blows my hair into my mouth. (Good looking out, Tempest. You're alright.)

"Wait a minute," I say, spitting out hair. I flag Percy down before Blackjack takes off. "Hey, Annabeth, do you have a hair tie?"

Annabeth laughs. "Yeah, here."

She pulls one off her arm, takes careful aim, and shoots it at me. I snatch it out of the air in what might be the first truly cool moment of my life.

I've never pulled my hair back before, but it's easy enough to get it out of the way and secure it with the rubber band. Hmm. I could get used to not having hair in my eyes 24/7.

I hear Blackjack's wings flap and Percy yells as they take off.

"Now I'm ready," I say.

"Good," Jason says. "You look good. And it's good that you're ready. Um, actually, you know what? I completely forgot what I was going to say."

"Giddy-up?" I suggest. "Prepare for takeoff?"

"Sure, that works."

Jason nudges Tempest forward with his knees, and there's a rush of wind as the storm spirit rises into the sky. Tempest knows the way back to camp, so there's no need for Jason to hold its mane and steer. But he keeps his arms around me the whole time anyway.


	25. Epilogue

Everyone was ecstatic to see Percy. Chiron kept the quest secret from everyone until he saw the horses coming. Sally admitted to breaking the speed limit a few times on the way to camp (but she was going 75 the whole way). Even she didn't know Percy was back until we crossed the boundary line on flying horseback. She almost tackled me and Percy when she tried to hug us.

People actually speak to me now, which is cool, I guess. It beats everyone being afraid of me. And if they are afraid of me, it's because of the way Hermes cabin has suddenly dedicated a cult to me for bringing Percy back. I know a few of them really are Hermes' kids, but if you ask me, they're a _little_ too serious about this "shipping" thing. I'm still not sure what it means, but it sounds terrifying.

It turns out Annabeth rode one of Mrs. O'Leary's puppies to see Bob when we first entered the Underworld to rescue Percy. She told me this last week after her meeting with the Underworld Architecture Council. I got to name one of the puppies, too. Meet Harrison Ford and his sisters Nikephoros, Danger, and Bobbie.

Speaking of Bob, he's getting better. I don't know what Hephaestus cabin has been up to, but three of their campers have been in the infirmary with mild amnesia. Something tells me they'll have an antidote for Lethe poisoning within the next few months, especially with Leo and Calypso heading the dev team.

Hazel visited camp about a week ago to teach me how to ride Trómos without falling off. I think I'm getting pretty good at it. Hazel says it's cheating to shadow travel to the end of the course when we race, but she always moves the finish line with the Mist anyway, so I figure it's fair enough. Besides, there's no way Trómos could outrun Arion.

Jason continues to turn heads everywhere he goes. Whether it's because he's a Roman or because I'm usually hanging off his arm when he's in camp is another story. As counsellor of Cabin One, he's always been a pretty popular guy. But now he also counsels the kids who are-- well, like us. For some reason, Butch and his mom Iris also volunteer as counselors. But really, you'd be surprised at the number of new campers who are more worried that they like someone than they are that one of their parents is a god.

Piper got me a new jacket. Imitation leather (the dryads and satyrs would have had a fit otherwise). It says "GHOST KING" on the back in silver studs. It also has several skulls. I've been repeatedly assured that this is incredibly cool. Piper's also thrilled that Jason and I are, and I quote, "an item now". Apparently she and Frank have been betting on it ever since Jason decided to trust me at the House of Hades. I don't know exactly what the bet was-- actually, I'm afraid to ask. All I know is that she won.

Percy really did plant Persephone's trees-- all twenty of them, one for each cabin. Besides that, well, he's as clueless as always. Sometimes I catch myself staring at him for too long, or wondering what it would be like if things had gone differently. I don't think I'll ever truly get over him. But can you really blame me? I mean, you never forget the first guy you saved the world with.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've been overwhelmed by all your comments, kudos, and bookmarks throughout the course of this story! It's been a journey and I've learned a lot about writing in the mean time. I'm so glad this story has gotten so much positive feedback. Thank you all so much for reading! Stick around for more stories.


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